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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29359728">Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Coalescence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aSufficientlyLongName/pseuds/aSufficientlyLongName'>aSufficientlyLongName</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon - Fandom, Pokemon Mystery Dungeon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety, Death, Female Protagonist, Male Protagonist, PMD, Potential spoilers for all PMD games., Wigglytuff's Guild (Pokemon Mystery Dungeon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:13:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>43,549</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29359728</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aSufficientlyLongName/pseuds/aSufficientlyLongName</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A man is forced into the body of a beast at the behest of a being outside his understanding. Told to solve problems that he knows nothing about, he must find a way to clear the bounty that is attached to the body he now inhabits, all while trying to find his nephew and survive.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is by all accounts my very first foray into creative fiction as well as fanfiction. I have not shared much of my writing with anyone, and I cannot attest to the quality of what I am writing. That being said, I hope that those who read it enjoy it. Any and all feedback on what I have written would be greatly appreciated. Feel free to be harsh if you need to as well.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Prologue </span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A young boy age 10 stood at a table laden with craft supplies. His hands were moderately covered in sawdust and his clothes were on their way to becoming the same. An unfinished but in progress bird house sat on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span> Looking to his right, the boy voiced what was on his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uncle Lewis, how come you’re not very old like auntie Gloria or uncle George?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man next to the boy was in his early 20s, covered in more saw dust than the boy. He was practically caked in it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I was born later than them. You see your grandparents decided pretty late to have another kid. They were in their 40s when they made that choice. That doesn’t make me any less your uncle though!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man’s smirk hid his sadness. His nephew had always viewed him as out of place in relation to his family as a whole. Lewis’s age was more appropriate for a cousin, rather than an uncle.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Despite this, he loved his nephew dearly. The birdhouse in front of him was a testament to that, it being a school project that he was helping the boy with. He couldn’t help but scoff at the stereotypical woodworking project before him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When is it not a bird house, picture frame, or some other lackluster object? At least a stool can be used. Same for a box of some sort. All the more reason to make it good I suppose.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With his unnecessary anxiety over the quality of the project in front him at the front of his mind he quickly got back to work.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Worried over the quality of a 10-year old’s school project. Sometimes I wonder how I even get out of bed in the morning.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what color do you want the birdhouse to be when we finish it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blue! N-No wait, orange and black!” The boy blurted out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The noise of drawers being pulled and cabinets being swung open filled the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s see, orange... orange... here we go. Oh!” The man looked to his left towards the boy with a small frown. “The black paint seems to have dried out. Do you want to choose something else or should we go to the store and get some more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to go to the store!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How can he be so enthusiastic over paint of all things? It’s infectious.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sawdust handprints were left on sink handles. Stairs were climbed and shoes slipped on. Keys jingled, a wallet was snagged, and out the door they went.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t a long drive. The road wasn’t even busy. Even then, a strange anxiety filled the air. Lewis could feel it. Or at least he would, if anxiety weren’t common enough in his life that he felt no different than normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What he did notice was the boys’ frown, his nervous eyes, and the gradual change of the slant of his eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something was wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air seemed stifling and heavy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis felt stretched and removed from everything. It felt like the very world was out to get him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to his nephew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Adam, I love you.” Was all he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boys mouth opened as if to say something, but he never got the chance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was cut off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rapidly upturned earth and screeching metal tortured their ears.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And then there was white. The smell of fuel. Sirens. Red and blue. The bump of the road on the highway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of squeaky wheels and rushing feet. He briefly glimpsed a tv tuned to the news, a long furrow in the ground and a wrecked private jet being shown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An SUV with a huge dent in the side of it and a piece of jet imbedded into it was off to the side, with a furrow from it being dragged away from the jet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smell of disinfectant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not gonna make it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stench of bile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s gonna be ok, just hold on”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The taste of iron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did not regain consciousness again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span> “It’s the summer holidays! Where would you like to go?”</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“The beach! Or-no no, still the beach.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hello?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis felt. What he felt he couldn’t properly describe. Like a color no one had ever seen before, or a new sense, he felt <strong>Himself</strong>. That was the only way he could think of describing it. An inexplicable sense of self and exactly what that self was. This mostly consisted of vague impossible to understand sensations as well as a general sense of just how much of <strong>him </strong>there was.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>“Are you a cheerful personality?”</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>“Are you a boy or a girl?”</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is.....wrong. Whatever this is, it’s sick.....</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt all that was <strong>himself </strong>begin to fade. He only just now realized that this had been happening before he had realized. It started when he arrived, he reasoned.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>“I see. Hold on a moment... Ah yes. You are jolly. Always laughing and smiling, you uplift everyone around you. You love jokes! You have lots of friends, and you're popular wherever you go. But sometimes you get carried away and say things that get you in trouble. You should learn to think before saying or doing anything. A jolly person like you should be… a squirtle. Do you know why I asked you all these questions?”</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No... but they were fun!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>“Well, I need you to do something for me okay? Something bad is happening. You’re going to fix it!”</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What is happening that I need to fix?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>“I don’t know yet, and you wouldn’t remember if I told you. I wish you the best!”</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <span>And then there was silence. Lewis was alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is anyone there?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can feel myself fading. I feel so tired</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>“You’re not supposed to be here. How did you get here?”</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re right, I don’t belong here. I don’t even know where ‘here’ is. All I know is that in not very long, I won’t be here unless you can do something to help me. Whatever is happening, it’s killing me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span>“</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>You can’t kill what’s already dead. You can only destroy it.”</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What do you mean? Wait... no. I mean... it all makes sense now. The car. The plane. The...blood. But what about Adam? I swear he was here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What did you do to him? If you laid a sing-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>“ENOUGH! I understand now. You came with the boy, unnoticed. I didn’t intend for this to happen. I’ll just send you on your way.”</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait please! Hold on! I need to know what happened to Adam!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>“I gave him a job. He’s done his part already. Or maybe he hasn’t. Time is fluid and ill-defined here. There is now and then there is not. That is all. No past or future, only present. Speaking of which, I think it’s about time I take a peek at the state of things. If luck is with me, I’ll see after instead of before, I don’t know where we are presently. Sometimes I wish I was Dialga... ah, uh oh... seems another problem has occurred.”</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That tells me nothing. Just tell me where Adam is, or if he’s okay. Did he do this ‘job’ you gave him? Can I see him now? Can you send us-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>“You’re trying my patience. Yes, he succeeded. Yet it seems the world never rests. I’ve changed my mind. How about I offer you a job?”</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Excuse me? Are you... serious?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span>“Let me rephrase that. You don’t have a choice. There is hardly much of you left here anyway. Turns out leaving a soul unattended here erodes it, what a surprise.”</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I...no, I don’t have to put up with this. Fuck you. I’m done. Either let me see Adam or let me go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>“Shut it. You’re going. Not where you want though. But first let me explain. Someone played god and created three beings that are a mockery of what they are modeled after. They are broken, nearly husks. Not much soul is in them. No potential to develop a conscious mind either. And seeing as they are part of the issue and how giving you a new body may very well just kill you due to how bad of a shape your soul is in, I’ll just put you into one of these beings. Palkia will thank me for this one, no rips in space this time. No dimensional anomaly. Just a new soul in an existing body. Any last questions?”</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How abou-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span>“</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>You thought I was serious? I don’t like you. You’re not fit for this job. If bringing someone else wouldn’t exasperate the problem, I would do so. You are my only possible choice when it comes to a timely solution. Timely, hehe. I suppose I should thank you, as until earlier I thought I would have to send someone much further back before all of this started. No guarantee they would be alive by the time things came to a climax if I did that. Later! Oh and try not to get caught right away. I’m sure you can clear your name given time.”</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>...</span>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>“What an unpleasant person.”</span>
  </strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Of monsters and men</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span>Chapter 1: Of monsters and men</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Guh... the last time I felt this nauseous was when I drank enough to be buzzed before riding a rollercoa- hold on why do I smell blood?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Looking down yielded the answer to that question. Below two large taloned feet was a kadabra. Or rather what was left of one. It had a scarf on and a bag with a badge on its side. The bag had a talon going through it, courtesy of the horrifyingly muscled bird feet on it. The feet themselves were pure black, with yellow talons, a ring of orange between the black and yellow.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis did the most reasonable thing he could think of. Panic. He fell when he tried to back away. Some amount of flailing and at least 10 swears later, Lewis managed to calm down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t perished to death in the form of leg day yet, so he was probably fine. Then he noticed the beak in his vision. Black and needle like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just barely stopped himself from panicking a second time.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span> I have officially gone insane.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he realized that not only was he the bird, but he had been standing on a <em>kadabra</em>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fact that it was wearing anything at all and had a guild badge escaped his notice.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pokémon. Ok. Does that mean that- actually yeah I probably am. Guess I’m a bird Pokémon. Man, it’s been years since I played the games. This is surreal.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>What followed was an embarrassing number of attempts at standing up. When he finally managed to do so he took the time to examine his body.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, what are we dealing with Lewis. Strong legs, check. I can feel the strength in these things, I could probably crush coconuts with these. Feathers, orange and black, check. Wings too small for my body, noted. Not any Pokémon I know of. I need to find some water, clean the blood off myself, and then maybe try and find some semblance of civilization. Hopefully, someone will be generous enough to help me when I show that I can read and write.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis took in his surroundings. He was in a forest; mountains were situated in the distance. It was quiet, probably due in part to the intimidating predator standing near the kadabra corpse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of a stream echoed in the distance, prompting Lewis to head in that direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t do very well. More than once he ended up clutching the soil beneath him, tearing chunks out of the ground. He fell twice.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay... I remember mr.”ihaveajobforyou” mentioning squirtles when he was speaking to Adam. Guess I know what to look for. If he is alive.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis felt out of it. Normally, he would be pacing like a madman, anxiety overwhelming him, but that was something hard to do when you just learned to walk for the second time in your life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coming upon the stream he was searching for, Lewis sighed, an action that produced a squawk instead of the what he intended to do. He anxiously looked around to see if anyone saw his embarrassing action only to remember that he was completely alone. Then he mused on why he was embarrassed to begin with.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m a fucking bird with the color scheme of a Halloween party. My wings are also in no way suitable for flying. Oh, and I don’t have thumbs, just some weird backwards claws that pierce or crush anything they pick up. I want to laugh and cry at the same time. I think the severity of the situation is only now just hitting me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He belatedly realized that he was exhausted mentally, emotionally, and physically. His body was likely active before it was his, the kadabra being evidence of that. Carefully wading into the shallow stream, he began to awkwardly move his legs to wash them. He lowered himself enough to wash the lower part of his body too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was cold, something that caused an irrational spike of panic in him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This body comes with baggage. Guess I really don’t like the cold, probably weak to ice types. Let’s see, what does that make me? Gotta be flying or ground type. I’m torn between the two. I wouldn’t be surprised if these wings being so small just makes it so I’m not a flying type.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Deciding he was too tired to think about it, Lewis began looking for a place to rest. This came in the form of a thicket of bushes with a gap in it.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Protected from most sides, the struggle for a comfortable sleeping position in an unfamiliar body began. He could have traveled further away from the site of his awakening, or learned more about his surroundings, but his mind was preoccupied with keeping stable. To have a breakdown would not be conducive to his current situation. With a kadabra body some couple hundred feet away, Lewis eventually found that having both of his legs lie folded below him was comfortable, and curling his head so that it was on his body did the job well enough. In time, he fell asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis awoke to the sound of bushes being moved. It took him a moment to remember what exactly had happened and that yes, this was not a dream. He stood up as fast as he could without compromising his balance. He was getting better at this whole standing thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shame what happened to kadabra. He had a death wish taking that bounty on his own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis’s eyes bugged out at the word bounty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shutup! Don’t disrespec’ the dead. That jus’ ain’t right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? He got what was coming to him. Have you heard the description of this thing? It’s fast, fast enough to get onto you before you know it’s there. It’s even written on the bounty that you shouldn’t go alone!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just then a single head peaked through the bushes Lewis was hiding in. A kabutops head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhhhhhh....hi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The head disappeared as fast as it arrived.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Any further attempt at conversation was halted when Lewis received a watergun to the eye 10 seconds later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A vaporeon, blaziken, and the aforementioned kabutops jumped into his small little thicket of bushes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis quickly realized that these Pokémon were not his friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jumping backwards higher than he thought possible, Lewis got ready to run for his life.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Blasts of fire, water, and hurled rocks headed his way as he began to move in the opposite direction, some skimming him. With every second he gained confidence in his stride, increasing his job to a run, then to a sprint as he started to gain speed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s getting away!” <em>What a brilliant observation.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>His speed quickly increased to what he would consider unsafe levels, even as his heart raced and he felt excitement at the rate the ground below him moved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually he started to feel air resistance, going so fast that his legs would be a blur if it weren’t for the strength, they contained allowing him to move so much with each flex of his muscles and each push off the ground. His run was closer to many small jumps, as he found touching the ground had started to slow him down. He was like a rock skipping over water.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>After a short while more of this he started to slow down. He found a large boulder in his path and realized that this was his key to stopping. Hopping onto the boulder he dug the talons of both his feet into the boulder, coming to a dead stop. His legs could take it. After stopping his talons dug further in, eventually his grip causing chunks to shatter off the boulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I’m stronger than I realized. Guess this is what my kidnapper meant when he said I would have to clear my name. Wait...one of those Pokémon said that the kadabra had taken a bounty...is this...a Mystery dungeon setting?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>_________________________________________________________________________</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <span>You had one job.....ONE. That’s it! A SINGLE job!” A thoroughly pissed blaziken spoke. The berated vaporeon lowered her head in shame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know, I’m sorry!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guys, listen ‘ere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t excuse it! This is UNACCEPTABLE! Seventy thousand poke! Seventy! THOUSAND! Do you realize how much can be done with that kind of money?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now listen ‘ere or I’m gonna hafta raise ma voice!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know! I already said I know! I messed up and I’m sorry!” Now the vaporeon was beginning to raise her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“<strong>LISTEN TO ME!”</strong></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you WANT!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The Kabutops emptied his lungs, a calming exhale. He hoped what he was about to say wouldn’t cause further uproar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So when ah found it in the bushes, it spoke to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both the blaziken and the vaporeon were silent. They exchanged glances between each other. <em>As expected, they were too shocked to-</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah why does that matter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now s- hol’ on what?” If the kabutops had an easily visible mouth you would see it gaping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The bounty says that it’s feral! I dont know no feral that speaks!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, then we just tell the guild it isn’t feral. They’ll raise the bounty!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The guild didn’t issue this bounty! They only added to it, seein as it started killin civil mons!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blaziken is right, they’ll raise the bounty. If it isn’t feral then that makes it all the more responsible and dangerous!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is bad news. The guild master is gonna be mighty angry. Bounty might be voided too.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <span>Ok let me explain why this be bad. This here bounty? It was issued on a feral mon. Feral!” He said. “When the guildmaster finds out one of two things is gonna happen. Either he’s gonna make it a bigger deal and start a man hunt for the mon, or he’s gonna cancel the damn bounty! Now I don’t know about you but havin more mons lookin for the bird than there already is don’t help nobody.” He paused to gather his breath, looking a bit sullen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The things that need to be done ain’t gonna be done, all because the odd looking feral ain’t feral at all. I don’t need to explain why a canceled bounty could be bad. I say we’ve gone down the rabbit hole and should get out while we can.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The looks kabutops got made him realize that what he just said made him look just how his teammates looked to him, stupid. <em>Fools value money above all else. It was a bad idea to take this bounty in the first place.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <span>Then we won’t say anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what, fine, but you two can do this alone. I don’t want nothin to do with this mess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kabutops! Come on! Just...please? Ignore blaziken? Maybe you heard wrong and it didn’t speak. We need you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s jus’ head back to the guild for now. I need to think about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a saddened vaporeon and indifferent blazoned to his back, kabutops began the trek home.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The thing looks a lot like zapdos. The picture in the bounty really got it wrong. And those eyes. There was more than a beast in them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There was fear.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>_________________________________________________________________________</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis kept on the move. A couple days passed, consisting of him waking in a chosen direction while scavenging berries. He tried following rivers and streams for the water they provided, but it seems that ferals were more frequent along them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That and he narrowly avoided multiple teams of Pokémon, all probably looking for him. The teams preferred the rivers as well it seemed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Each day only increased his paranoia, his anxiety, and the ever present feeling of dread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he found irrefutable proof that the universe, dimension, or whatever you may call it, had mystery dungeon fuckery.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It turns out the games made mystery dungeons seem less intimidating than they really are. Standing before one Lewis could attest to this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While his discovery only hammered home the reality of his situation, the sight in front of him distracted him much more. Especially the feelings it brought with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Lewis couldn’t easily put into words what merely being near a dungeon felt like, the only apt description being <em>completely and utterly wrong.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>Faced with the choice of going forward through an ever changing labyrinth or going back to face the multiple pursuing teams that had yet to notice him, he made a admittedly poor decision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hesitated.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It turns out that guild teams love to watch dungeon borders when near them, seeing as wilds that had wandered in, criminals, and other teams could exit anywhere at anytime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being large and orange doesn’t make for good camouflage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither does being blue, red, and large, something that the Druddigon that ran into the bushes after glancing his way did not seem to understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It brought more attention to itself being so conspicuous and noisy than it would have if it just kept walking. Time to take a chance.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! I saw you! I just want to talk!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It turns out that attempting to talk to your pursuers has a low chance of working if your bounty is worth a years pay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis bolted into the dungeon as soon as the Druddigon bolted out of the bushes in his direction, not even looking toward the other 3 nearby foreboding noises of rushing steps, scuffed ground, and disturbed bushes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only way out was into the depths of what not 20 seconds ago he described as <em>wrong.</em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>_________________________________________________________________________</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>Unnamed dungeon F1</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis could not keep himself together. The occasional sounds of wildlife combined with the unsettling presence of the dungeon itself was getting to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every brand that snapped made him dart his head. Every distant feral cry</span>
</p><p>
  <span>made him flinch, and every corridor that he went down caused an unending need to look back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew he was not handling well. He just couldn’t help himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For Lewis anxiety was an ever present part of his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were no anxiety meds in mystery dungeons.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I need to do something.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It did not take very long for him to encounter his first feral. The skitty that jumped out did not like him. He was tackled moments later, falling in a heap out of surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just like that he was set off. His rational mind warred with the instinctual mind and he had the urge to fight, to run, to move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pecked it. That’s what his brilliant bird mind did. It put its vulnerable eyes right next to a skitty.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis reeled himself in. The skitty was hurt, yes, but if it had recovered in a timely manner he may have lost an eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His instincts were cocky. The skitty was smaller, and his body was strong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only rational response was to leisurely peck the dangerous feral.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was pushed out of his musings by a tail whip to the face.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ouch.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>While hesitant, he lashed out with a kick. The skitty ineffectively biting at his chest was launched.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ladies and gentlemen, we are sending the first cat to the moon.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought of team rocket, Michael Jordan’s dunks, and trampolines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Either the skitty wanted nothing else to do with him or launching it into the ‘no go’ zone that was the extremely grassy border ‘walls’ caused it to end up somewhere else in the dungeon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Either way, he did not see it again.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>Unnamed dungeon F3</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He encountered nothing in the second floor, besides a couple of sleeping mons. He did spot a scyther in a corridor for a short moment, though it was at an intersection and didn’t head or even look his way. <em>Thank god. Or would it be thank Arceus? Actually wouldn’t bo-what was that?</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bushes on the side of the room moved. Out of them came a... nothing. <em>I am going insane. I’m going to flip out I swear I can’t do this anymore. The dungeon has to be messing with me, there is no way it isn’t. Not when it pulls stunts like that.</em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Disregarding the absurdity of the situation, Lewis continued on. He encountered a sentret that he ended up getting the drop on, though still slipped up because of simple hesitation. He was not used to violence. The loud screeching it made to warn whatever friends it had hurt his ears and annoyed him to no end. How useful a warning call in a mystery dungeon would be is question Lewis didn’t have an answer to, but he didn’t encounter any other sentret so he assumed it to be “not very”. Multiple other ferals were encountered, with fights varying in success.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Room after room he searched. Before long he became frustrated. <em>This is taking forever. The last two floors did not take nearly as long.</em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>3 rooms later he was spooked by another bush. Like before there was nothing. Beginning to move to the next corridor he took one last glance behind himself, just to end up face to face with a phantump. He squawked loudly, back peddled, then attempted to kick it. <em>MY PARANOIA WAS JUSTIFIED! IM GOING TO THROTTLE YOU, BUSH SHAKER!</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>His foot went right through, doing nothing. <em>Uh oh...</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just going to head this w-“ he barely dodged the tackle it attempted. “Yeah, I thought so. No friends here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a blessing he could move faster than it, as the rest of the floor consisted of him awkwardly attempting to outmaneuver it until he finally found the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span>Unnamed dungeon F4/5</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was slow going. Walk down a corridor. Kick some ferals. Complain about the paltry wounds received from them. Panic at a snapping twig. Check the room for stairs. Proceed to the next corridor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Repeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Repeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Repeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ad nauseam.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I’ve been this nervous over sticks in my life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was beginning to talk to himself. He couldn’t help it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was hungry, bruised, and battered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dungeon had been greedy. Food was nowhere to be found. No apple, no berries, no respite. He did end up finding a scrap of fabric, likely a pice of a scarf of sorts, and a single patch of emera dust. Neither were pick up, both being useless without something to hold them, disregarding the question of what a dainty piece of ripped fabric could be used for when you don’t have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The marble staircase that greeted his sight was relieving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sight that greeted him when he went down it was not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An entire group of beedrill.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It just had to be a swarm of bugs. A single bug? Fine. A swarm? Horri-I mean repulsive. Y-Yeah... I refuse to be afraid of bugs!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With his mind occupied with containing his fears, his ever increasing panic and anxiety, and the exhaustion of the day, his body started to operate on auto pilot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned around in the hope that this time the staircase would still be there, despite it disappearing every other time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As before, it was not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead he saw a single beedrill sleeping in the corner of the room and a corridor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the beedrill in the room noticed him, something he knew by the increasingly loud buzzing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ran for that corridor like a dehydrated man seeing an oasis.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NO THANKS NOT TODAY I HATE BEES!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As the buzzing got louder so too did the control that instinct had over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This directly collaborated with his speed. The running made his degraded mind want to go faster. And then some more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually he was bolting from corridor to corridor, only briefly and partially in control when he had to make turns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More than once he had to kick a beedrill, or rarely a feral of a different species. Where as before his kicks were hesitant and unskilled, his instinct steered mind delivered swift and efficient beat downs. Not professional by any means but much better than anything his conscious mind had been doing. Disregarding the peck to the skitty, of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next room he an into contained his holy grail. The staircase</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The staircase couldn’t have come sooner. He could feel air the beedrill stirred with their wings on his back. Scrambling to get to it, he leaped. Reality can often be disappointing. There was no heroic escape. There was plenty of tripping in supply though, especially tripping on air. Clumsy movements made it so that he <em>fell </em>down in a heap. Step after bruise causing step.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found himself at the dungeons border, presumably on the other side of where he started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By then his adrenaline had worn off. He wobbled as he stood, shaky from all the fatigue hitting him at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The grueling task of making distance had begun.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis was sure that he had never pushed himself as hard as he had earlier; in both of his lives. He knew the consequences to overworking yourself, though he wasn’t sure if they would have more or less of an impact on the body of a Pokémon.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I can find some orans. Or just food of any sort. I’m so hungry.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure how far he went. Far enough to not be caught by his pursuers he hoped. Eventually he found a suitably large burrow below a trees roots that with a little bit of work and some extra digging to widen the entrance he could fit into. He knew that passing this opportunity up would be a poor decision, so he decided to settle down for the evening. A couple of hours were then spent searching for food, with some but not enough being found.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>First time eating... whatever this is. Man there are so many berries that I don’t know the name of. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was a bluk berry. <em>Looks like grapes so I’ll call it that until I’m I learn the name. I’ll probably look stupid when it happens too.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>Food in stomach, entrance expanded, and body bloodied, battered, and dirtied, Lewis slowly went to sleep. <em>Tomorrow is another day.</em></span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. An unintended meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span>Chapter 2: An unintended meeting</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya was confused. She saw three different mountains in the distance, each in a different direction. The problem was that she didn’t know which one she was supposed to head to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To make matters worse, the sun was directly above her. She couldn’t tell which direction north was.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eenie meeni miny moe, where oh where should I go? I choose you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Without further preamble, Amaya began heading to the further mountains.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All I have to do is get the shipment and bring it back. That’s it. Then I can finally buy a home. I can join the guild and not worry about my future if I’m not let in. There’s no way mr. Corviknight will let me do more jobs if he sees me anywhere near the guild though, but a home would make actually storing any income possible, seeing as the bank doesn’t service those who don’t have guild membership or permanent residence.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She had been hiding her money at the beach for nearly a year now, though not all in one spot. As much of a hassle as it was, she used many small stashes. She had learned her lesson when someone found one of her stash’s when they were larger and took two months of her hard earned savings.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hold on. This doesn’t matter if I don’t get the job done. I have to focus! ...Maybe I should have brought a compass though. No! I can’t think like that! Gotta be confident!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And thus she marched. With her job not being entirely legal she often had to take longer and more convoluted but less traveled routes to complete jobs. Any towns she went into while doing a job she would have to enter at night, just in the off chance that someone connected the dots, as unlikely as that was for some of the more petty crimes she commited. Even with her experience, she still got lost sometimes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Before long she found herself in a forest. The trees blocked her sight of the sun a considerable amount. By the time an hour had passed she still hadn’t realized that she had gone the wrong way, the sun no longer being in sight, removing the sense of direction it would supply when not at its zenith. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet still she continued. She would only stop when she became fatigued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Might as well take a break. I have a couple days to do this and it’s an open job anyway so nobody would know if I failed. Anyone can take it, they don’t even need to tell the boss. There’s probably somebody else doing it now anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>One thing led to another and a rest turned into a search for some food, which then turned into dinner, until finally she just settled down in a tree for the night. Being a weavile made the cold the darkness brought tolerable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The night was ordinary, as were her dreams. Dreams of good food, riches, many friends, and joining the guild.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya woke up with a spine cracking stretch and a massive yawn. While her back hurt slightly from it, it helped alleviated the back issues that sleeping in a tree sometimes provided. The stretch was pure bliss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She checked her bag, taking some berries out. Leftovers from what she had foraged for last evening. Two orans, a cheri, and three leppa berries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two of the leppas were quickly devoured.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The others are too useful to waste, and I have three of these. Not as good as roseli berries but those don’t even grow around here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Back to work, I guess.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya wandered in what she believed to be the general direction of her task. Normally she would be more serious, especially with how close she was to completing the next step in her dream, but the lack of certainty caused her to pay less and less attention. She counted the trees, mused to herself about things, thought about gossip she had heard recently, and even started singing at one point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time she caught herself she realized she may be better of going home. Even if she was going the right way, the chance that she wasn’t was higher than the chance she was, and she just couldn’t stay serious in light of that.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>So, she began the trek back, a bit bothered by the wasted time but not dissuaded from her ultimate goal. And yet even in the vast wilderness you may find yourself not alone. It only took a glimpse of moving orange for her to duck out of sight. She had learned that being alone makes you a prime target for others with a similar profession to hers, banditry. Then there were ferals. Some may eat you, others just wanted the shiny or soft stuff civilized Pokémon carried. Most commonly they just wanted you gone.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bored from the walking and a little curious as to what someone was doing out here, she decided to go Pokémon watching. Creeping in the direction of the nearest tree, she scaled it like she was born doing so. The forest was dense enough to jump from tree to tree. With Weavile’ being so lithe and Amaya having done this before, she gained ground on her quarry quickly and quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She was greeted with the sight of an orange and black bird. Slightly above 5 feet tall with intimidating talons. More notable was that it was injured and unsteady on its feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What is this thing? I don’t think I’ve even heard anyone talk about something that looks like this. I would think it’s a talonflame if I hadn’t seen one before.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya loved to see new things. With something suitably new in front of her, Amaya had no reason to not see this through.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Time to follow for awhile.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re out of touch! I’m out of time! But I’m out of my head when you’re not around!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Huh.... guess it’s not a feral.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sounds like a he. He also doesn’t sound very good. Mediocre fits. Though I don’t think I’ve heard this song before.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>In her inattention she stepped on a branch that was too weak to hold her weight. The snap caused the bird to stop singing and jolt his head in her direction. Her only saving grace was her speed and the fact she landed on her feet, which allowed her to swiftly get behind a tree after she landed.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That did not go as planned.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis was scared. He knew he heard something; he can see the branch that snapped on the ground. He was confident he saw movement as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Step one, don’t panic. Stay calm. It’s probably a feral. I can deal with a feral.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Step two, strategic retreat. Get as far away from the spooky as possible.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Step three... Uh...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It’s hard to enact a plan when you’re stuck in your own head. Poor execution of his second step almost caused him to trip as he backed away from the direction he heard the snap. This time he knew he saw movement. His eyes were designed for high-speed running, the motion of objects was not blurry or indistinct, but clear. It’s probable that the weavile thought that his overbalance distracted him enough that he wouldn’t notice. And he wouldn’t have if his eyes weren’t good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello? Weavile? Please don’t be feral?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If it’s a guild member and they know I have a bounty then things have become FUBAR. I think I’m about to start hyperventilating. I can’t fight someone with training, even if I wasn’t as hurt as I am.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>From behind a tree the Weaviles head peeked out. It looked skeptical of Lewis’s intentions. Regardless, it slowly stepped out after glancing around as if looking for an ambush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once fully in sight it still looked slightly tense but began to relax after nothing happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, I’m Weavile. Nice to meet you.” The Weavile confidently said.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No names it seems.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“So...do you not do names or something?” <em>that sounded incredibly rude. I should not have said that. I spend years learning to keep my mouth shut and not blurt out what’s at the forefront of my mind just to slip up when my life may very well be on the line.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“E-excuse me? Why would you ask me something so personal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Names must be taboo to give out. Must be something private. Amazing start Lewis. Keep it up and you might only be killed instead of disemboweled.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I’m not exactly from around here. Names are something less personal where I come from.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Weavile looked like she - he could tell it was a she from the voice - doubted him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what should I call you?” She gave him a stern look that he almost didn’t catch. It was more of a twitch that showed her frustration than anything else. His eyes were pretty good for reading faces too it seemed. They weren’t just good for running.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m guessing she’s asking for my species name. Uh oh. What do I say? Uh. I have to say something. And I have to politely.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh...um... I don’t know what I am, so I can’t exactly give you a species name...I only have my actual name.” <em>Better but still bad.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked unimpressed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who doesn’t know their own species? Didn’t your parents tell you? What should I call you then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis considered the question for a moment before anxiety made him impulsive, making him spout an answer that was practically no different than his actual name.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Call me Lew.” <em>Shoot this is totally going to make me look dumb if she ever finds out my real name.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Actually, why does it matter? I might never see her again. Then again if I have a bounty she might be able to get me stuff from towns that I normally wouldn’t be able to enter.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not my real name but it will work for now.” He said, more so to reassure himself rather than her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure” she said. “So, what are you doing all the way out here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How the hell am I supposed to answer that? Time for a turnabout.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>With as much confidence as he could muster he said “I could ask you the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both just stood there. Silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is so awkward.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough” she huffed. “Why don’t we ignore what we were both doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s... reasonable enough I suppose.” Unconsciously tensing his legs, he prepared his next question. “Are you with the guild, or a guild?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please say no</span>
  </em>
  <span> “No, but I hope to join Wigglytuff’s guild.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This changes everything. I know where I am, sort of.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“In Treasure town?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked at him with disappointment. “Where else?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Something was wrong with Lew. Of this Amaya was confident of. From not knowing his species, to asking for her name, to having to question where one of the most famous guilds in existence was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>None of it made sense. Not to Amaya anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This guy is totally a criminal. Or an idiot. Maybe both.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever. I’ll just be on my way; nice meeting you.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“W-wait! Could I possibly come with you? I’m lost, hurt, and starving. I really could use some help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya was anything but happy about this. Having to babysit a giant bird was not something she planned for in her schedule. Not that she scheduled much anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I should just give him an oran and leave it at that. He doesn’t deserve to die but I couldn’t be bothered with dragging him along.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Reaching into her bag, she gave Lew one of her two orans. She was hesitant to part with it but was confident in her abilities and didn’t expect trouble in the near future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was surprised how happy he was. His face was not very expressive, but she could tell by his eyes and slightly open beak that he was happy. His feathers slightly puffing out in surprise also helped get the point across.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dude acts like he’s never eaten an oran berry in his life. It’s just an Oran, it’s not like any of the rarer berries or anything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She had no clue just how spot on her ridicule was to reality.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He gobbled the Oran berry down faster than his slim beak seemed capable of. He had practically snatched it out of her hand. He seemed oblivious to just how close he had gotten until he finished, only then backing away with a sheepish look. She used the time he spent eating to get a closer look at him, noticing the various cuts on his legs and the blood on him in various places. A fair amount seemed to be his but the blood on his talons clearly wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Those cuts will be scabbed over completely in half an hour. He probably would have gotten an infection without the oran.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, I mean it. If you ever need help and you find me, I would be glad to return the favor.” He supplied with noticeable relief on his body. He seemed to just deflate once he realized that the chances of her harming him were slim to none if she was giving him an oran. While he hadn’t seemed tense before, she didn’t realize just how much he subconsciously was until the slight twitches of his talons and the occasional shuffle of his wings stopped. “Say, could you point me in the direction of Mt.Bristle?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He wants to go exactly where I’m going. Maybe he’s trying to do the same job as me. Might as well test the waters.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would tell you, but I am slightly lost. By the way, what do you do for a living? I’m curious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t get a response, so she probed some more. “Hey, do you know mr. Corviknight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, why? Is he someone important?” <em>Has he even been to Treasure Town?</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then never mind. I was heading in that direction” she said while pointing.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! I came from that way.” <em>If he’s looking for Mt.Bristle and he came from that way it can’t be over there. I actually have been going the wrong way. I’m not surprised. </em>“There was this 5-floor mystery dungeon as well. Not fun.” <em>I know about that dungeon. It’s by Sunny Spot Hill. So that means that the direction to Mt.Bristle should be......to the right some from the way I am facing.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, that helps me find out where to go from here.” While she was about to continue, she hesitated. Would he follow her? Possibly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you know where I came from? I mean you know the area I was talking about?” <em>I just had to thank him and let that slip.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So where is that called?” <em>He trapped me. I cannot get out of this conversation easily. Wait. I know.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t really have a name. It’s not close to anything either.” And with that she began heading to Mt.Bristle. “Oh, and please don’t follow me. You’re very intimidating and you may scare people while I do my job.” <em>It’s not exactly a lie but I’m sure the runner wouldn’t care, they’re just there to drop the package off. Chances are they ran as soon as they dropped the package off.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. I promise not to follow you, you helped me after all.” Amaya was surprised. She didn’t entirely believe him, she was actually confident he would follow her, but his agreeableness was nice. He wouldn’t be an issue if he followed from a distance. He was in no shape to do anything, she would know he was there, and if she really had to she could fight him. He was liable to stay at Mt.Bristle too, at least for long enough for her to leave, seeing as that was where he was heading. Done thinking, she trudged forward further through the near silent forest.<br/>
<br/>
 _________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis had lied. He was sure the Weavile knew he would lie and follow her. Despite this he took the chance that following her entailed. Not that he had much a choice in the grand scheme of things. The forest was quite with only occasional bird calls and the sounds of insects. It was early, the morning dew still fresh on what grass was able to grow under the tree canopy. The peaceful setting helped put Lewis at ease. It wasn’t too quiet, not like when a predator was around. It was a welcome quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The going was slow. Lewis generally stayed only far enough away that he would occasionally lose sight of the Weavile. Sometimes he got closer in areas where the trees were thicker or stayed further away when clearings showed up and in areas with less trees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time felt as if it passed at the speed of molasses, but Lewis didn’t mind. It gave him to think. About what varied, but his mind tended to jump around randomly to whatever drew his attention. Thoughts about trees would lead to thoughts about wood construction, which would branch further until the newest thought was completely removed from the starting topic. Lewis knew it was an issue of his. Just like his anxiety he tried to keep it in check but without constant stimulus or medication there was nothing he could do about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a potentially harmful issue if he had to do something important or if he were for example in the wild where monsters with supernatural powers could ambush him. Like now.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder how seeds work. If I cut them open would there be a powder or something in the less dangerous ones? How would I even cut seeds open? Would the insides retain their effects?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>This continued until he walked face first into a tree. His pointed beak slightly lodged itself into the bark, leaving a noticeable mark once he pulled it out. “Ouch” <em>That’s what I get for not paying attention. </em>He thought he heard snickering in the distance but brushed it off as a figment of his imagination. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keeping a look out for berries became his next focus as he resolved himself to pay attention. He found few and those he did find he gobbled up whether or not they tasted good. He also encountered an apple tree, though he had to keep moving and was unable to get more than one as they were awkward to carry and took longer to eat. The apple was unusually large, and nothing like a wild apple should have been. Mankind had spent decades selectively breeding the traits modern apples have. It made little sense for these apples to have them but then again it made little sense for creatures to breath ice or have metal bones. Lewis just shrugged it off as something that would likely never be explained. <em>Blame the powers that be.</em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As time went on the forest became livelier. Birdcalls rang out across the forest, occasional territorial fights could be heard, and the crickets began to quiet down some. Not as peaceful, but possibly more beautiful. Rays of light that had trouble piercing the leaves overhead in denser patches of forest now shone through like pillars of gold. Invisible details revealed themselves. Sap dripped down from a nearby tree, shining against the light; a leaf glided down in a dance rhythmic, peaceful for those who would venture to watch. Lewis drank it in with his eyes. His spirits rose alongside the beauty of the forest. For the first time in two days and the first time in his new life he felt joyful.<br/>
 Even with this joy, anxiety and paranoia would eventually become a problem. He couldn’t help it. With the now active wildlife came the risk of facing it. His neck being longer contributed to the issue, as it made it much easier for him to look around with the larger range of motion it supplied. With his vision darting around he failed to notice the forest edge in front of him. It wasn’t until he looked forward again that he saw it.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>While the Weavile was off in the distance, that wasn’t what caught his eye. No, the looming object that was Mt.Bristle was what spearheaded his thoughts. <em>Wow… This is amazing! Its larger than the games make it look. Good thing I don’t plan on climbing to the top; just enough to see my surroundings. </em>The Weavile didn’t deign him any attention, even with his stark difference compared to his surroundings. With sight of his destination came determination, and the overwhelming need to do something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Onward he went.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Mt. Bristle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span>Chapter 3: Mt. Bristle<br/>
<br/>
 </span>
  </strong>
  <span>While Mt. Bristle was in sight, that didn’t mean it was in reach. Lewis still had a couple more hours of travel to look forward to, or to dread depending on who you asked. Resolved to make it quick, he started jogging. A jog built into a run and then into a sprint. He knew he could go faster, his body told him so, but he knew that at some point he wouldn’t be able to get himself to stop. The speed was exhilarating. The grassy open fields between the forest and Mt.Bristle made running require little conscious input. What few trees there were he could go around tens of meters before he even reached them.<br/>
<br/>
Eventually he ran past a surprised Weavile. The look of shock on her face made him smirk. <em>At this rate it won’t take very long to make it there. Especially if I can keep this pace. </em>Nearly 30 minutes later he had hit his limit. Starving for two days and healing injuries was not good for your body. There had yet to be a moment where he was not hungry. <em>A fast body with a fast metabolism</em>. He burned through calories like fuel in an engine. He was hesitant to eat meat. It irked him that nearly every living thing had the possibility to develop sapience. How was he to know how close something was to developing complex thought? Worse was that his body seemed predatory. While the beak would make eating awkward, that didn’t matter when by the time you were finished with something it was shredded by massive talons. Talons he had yet to properly utilize in a fight, in part for that very reason. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With sore legs he suddenly regretted his decision. The consequences were not worth the adrenaline-fueled exhilaration he acquired. <em>I fear the day I have time to get in proper shape. </em>Resting was still something that was awkward to him in his body. His long legs made it so that he had to move oddly to sit. There was probably a better way of doing. He had yet to find it though. 10 minutes later he was still tired. Then he realized that he hadn’t drank any water in over a day and had just exhausted his body. <em>I am an idiot. </em>He realized how dangerous of a situation he was in. He had no idea where the nearest source of water was. He may not have known how long his new body could go without water, but he erred on the side of caution and gave it the human standard of three days. At this point he had begun to slowly walk towards his goal. It hurt, but as long as he felt pain, he knew he was alive. 5 minutes later he made it to one of the small patches of trees in the plains. Dropping into a heap, he began to rest in the shade the tree provided. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The day was much hotter than he had previously thought. The shade of the forest had done a wonderful job of keeping him a comfortable temperature earlier and he hadn’t had to deal with the days heat. It wasn’t blisteringly hot, just hot enough to sweat. <em>If this body can sweat that is. </em>Doubt about how long it would take to get to Mt. Bristle also came into being. All his estimates were liable to be wrong as his pace further slowed over time. His saving grace ended up being a certain Weavile.<br/>
<br/>
 _________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya had been shocked when Lew had bolted past her. While she was capable of moving at very high speed, courtesy of being a Weavile, she had never seen something <em>consistently</em> stay at speeds similar to hers. It was the endurance that surprised her.<br/>
<em>I feel disgusted, insulted, and awed all at the same time. It feels like an insult to my species. He also blatantly disregarded what I asked him to do. Yeah, I knew he was following me but to be so up front about it is just insulting.</em> Taking a moment to calm down she got ready to move on. The calmly swaying radiant grass helped ease her mood. Clear skies above created a wonderful blue that contrasted well with the grass around her. Moments like these were why she wanted to join the guild. Even if the world had already been completely mapped. Even if someone had already seen whatever she would be seeing. She was not dissuaded. Everyone told tales of the heroes of the past and of beautiful and awe-inspiring sights. She wanted that awe.<br/>
 </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her aspirations for awe however would have to take a back seat for the moment. She had places to be. On she walked. Eventually she came upon a tree with a familiar sight below it. The obnoxious orange bird. ”Oh hey it’s you again. Could you please spare me som-“ “No.” she said with a scowl. <em>I want to throttle him. </em>“p-please just listen to me.” Amaya just kept walking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might die if I don’t get any water. I haven’t had any in over a day and I overworked myself. There is a chance that tomorrow is hotter and that I don’t find any water.” Amaya stopped. She knew she may very well regret this. Hesitating for a moment she pulled out a canteen and went to hand it to him, only to realize he did not have hands. “Im sorry. I-“ She cut him off by removing the cork on the canteen and almost shoving it into his face. He quickly opened his mouth just to have to spout of the container shoved into his beak. Not something conducive to easy drinking. The water he coughed out ended up getting all over her hand and canteen. She only barely stopped herself from swiping at his face. <em>Ungrateful bird. </em>Having done her job, she sealed her canteen and made way. The way the bird stared at her back as she left unnerved her. It seemed predatory, despite how naive Lew seemed to her.<br/>
An hour passed with more than one nervous glance behind herself. With the speed that Lew had shown earlier she doubted he wasn’t putting on a façade. <em>Its unnerving. He either really is a complete mess or he’s very good at making himself look unthreatening to others. He’s probably got some good stories to tell. </em>With her mind occupied the trip to the drop off point was a breeze. A small wooden box hidden under a fallen tree by a large rock. The box was nailed shut, something she found unusual, but asking questions was a trait that would get you hurt for those who took her current career path. She also now knew exactly where she was, so much so that she could point to where she was on a map. Two trees nearby the boulder could be used for navigation, with the gap between them being straight in the direction of Capim town. Once there is was easy to get back to treasure town by following the coast. With nearly a quarter of the day left, she decided to make some distance. She still had food and water, there was no need for her to forage for more. While she expected the bird to follow her again, she did not end up seeing him. <em>Probably for the better.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis felt rested enough after another 15 minutes sprawled into a heap. He didn’t want to get up but sitting there and doing nothing when his goal was right in the distance would only cause undue anxiety. If the mountain wasn’t in sight this wouldn’t be an issue. He had no clue why this happened. Maybe it was the constant reminder that he should have been doing something and that he was not doing it. <em>Probably.</em> He would be surprised if he made it to Mt. Bristle before sundown. By the time he finally did make it the sun was merging with the horizon. The sky was filled with a wide range of shades of purple, blue, yellow, and orange. A wonderful sight fit for a painting. <em>If only I had camera. </em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even tired as he was, he was too close to bring himself to stop. Much to his surprise, not all of Mt. Bristle was a mystery dungeon. The only reliable way to the top was through the dungeon, but you could reach very high outside of the dungeon. Not wanting to fight ferals, he chose to forgo the experience and instead opted for an area where there were plenty of paths up. He could see it getting steeper further up, but it was really only until much higher up that things became unscalable. Even with his best efforts he had to avoid ferals though. Dragons loved mountains and many of the more dangerous flying types that could reach high liked to perch just as high. He almost walked into a sleeping Salamence at one point when following a rock wall. The large dragon was sitting just inside the entrance to a cave. As the mountain got more and more difficult to scale, so too did staying awake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he saw it, lights in the distance. The sun had already set fully at this point, and with the sundown the lights of Treasure town came on to replace it. It was much larger than he recalled it being in the game. There were many more permanent buildings than there were in the explorers games. There were still tents of course, many tents. He couldn’t see the whole town, as there were some shorter mountains that blocked part of his sight, but what he could see was amazing. There was also a pink building that resembled a certain Pokémon. While he couldn’t make out all the details on the buildings, he saw with much more clarity than he thought he would. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Further to the right was Capim town. Smaller than Treasure town for sure, but not any less impressive. It too was lit up like a star in the night. With his bearings found, Lewis began looking for a place to sleep. He found multiple boulders next to a rock face and settled down between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lewis woke to the sun in his eyes. It was time to move. The sun shone off nearby rocks, catching the small crystals present in some of them. Some would call it beautiful. To Lewis it served as something that hurt his eyes. Resolved to go somewhere less flashy, he stood and stretched. His joints were stiff and popped. <em>I never want to sleep on rock again. </em>He found it to actually be easier going up the mountain than it was to go down. His legs only had one backwards facing talon whereas they had three forward facing ones. This made it so that on steeper inclines he only had the support of his two back talons. Attempting to dig his front talons in on these steep areas had a tendency to pull him down when the stone finally gave way to his talons. The remaining force would pull him forward, just like how in a tug of war match if one side lets go the others fall backwards as they would still have been pulling. It was only by chance that when he figured this out, he wasn’t too high up. The resulting faceplant could have been much messier if he were. He found himself flaring his wings when he fell small distances. He hadn’t really paid attention to it until now, but the noises his feathers made when they rubbed against each other was anything but pleasant. The noises sounded like crackling electricity, something which was slightly grating on the ears when he consciously paid attention to it. The noise was worth the drag his wings produced, which was considerably more than he thought they would. <em>I might just be able to glide with these. Maybe fly for short amounts of time if I built the muscles up enough. </em> The boulders nearby had large gouges on them. Some were from his talons but the rest he could not tell the origin of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed the world had a cosmic sense of irony because at that very moment an aggron stepped around a nearby boulder. The aggron was fuming, enraged that something would intrude upon its territory, territory it had marked. <em>In hindsight the scratches were suspicious. How am I supposed to deal with this? It could probably kill me just by falling over onto me. </em>The aggron began its advance, a low rumbling growl echoing from its throat. Faced with multiple very steep drops next to each other, such that a tumble would bring him 40 or so feet down, and a large angry metal beast, Lewis chose the less risky of the two. He only made it down the first drop when he lost his footing and began to fall. His first instinct was to flail but his body had something else in mind. <em>NO NO NO PLEASE NOT LIKE THIS-oh…I’m… I’m flying! </em>Caught off guard while giggling madly he almost forgot that he had to steer. His adjustments were slow and inexperienced. <em>Actually, this is really only gliding. </em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his newfound dominance of the skies, he started gliding in the direction of his destination. <em>Treasure town here I c-</em> and promptly forgot that wind exists. <em>OO-ooookay. Okay. Everything is fine. </em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was not good at keeping his height. The constant winds made staying stable hard. More than once he ended up falling, only to stabilize himself. Rarely he even gained height, though never enough to make up for what he was losing. Even with his lost altitude he still made huge progress towards reaching Treasure town. By the time he finally landed he was on the mountains that had partially blocked his line of sight previously. <em>My wings hurt. Forget anything I said about these being useless. Wings, I will never talk smack about you another day in my life. And I need to relax or talk to somebody because all this stress is making me talk to myself.</em> He unfortunately did not land very high on the mountain he was currently on. Hardly a quarter of the way up even. He was actually very close to Capim town. He could even occasionally see the small forms of those who lived there crossing the rope bridges that connected various buildings. <em>Is that… It is! It’s that Weavile, she’s on one of the bridges! What a small world. </em>With that he got an idea. He felt slightly guilty about having to rely so much on her. <em>Maybe I can pay her back. </em><br/>
 _________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya was still groggy. She had almost made it all the way to Capim town before she settled down to sleep. It did not take long for her to arrive in town after she woke up, though she may have slept too little. Deciding she wanted something to wake herself up she went and bought a chesto berry. <em>These things taste horrible. </em>With her body full of caffeine she started the second trek of her journey. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>40 minutes in she became very very angry. Standing in the trail ahead of her was her current least favorite person on the planet. At his feet was a pile of assorted berries. “H-hello again! I wanted to pay you back. These are for you.” <em>Two chesto berries. I spend days saving up money. Every poke I spend hurts. </em>“Why didn’t you bring them into town?” “Huh?” Lew looked decidedly nervous and confused now. He wasn’t expecting the response he was getting. “I spent my hard-earned money on berries just to find out you got some anyway. You knew I was there. There’s no other way you would have known I was taking this pa-“ She stopped when she saw the sitrus berry in the pile. <em>Maybe I shouldn’t be too harsh. Just this once. </em>“Is this how you respond to everyone who pays you back? Besides, I wouldn’t have been able to carry them all to you! </span>
  <span>A-also I was really hungry and kept eating them.</span>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No no, it’s fine. You didn’t know. I’ve just had a frustrating morning, that’s all.” She sauntered over to the pile of berries, looking them over in greater detail. Lew had stepped back some to give her space, not that she had paid attention to him doing so to begin with. The pile had the mouthwatering sitrus berry of course, but it also had a rawst berry, oran berry, and two pecha berries. She cared not for the rawst or pecha berries and was only content with an oran berry. It was the sitrus berry that mattered. <em>This is worth around half of what delivering the package will get me.</em> She carefully put the sitrus berry in her bag, making sure it wasn’t up against any of the more sharp or solid objects in her bag. The rest of the berries were less carefully put away. She looked up only to see Lew glance away.<br/>
<em>Well. At the very least he seems to want to help. He can’t be too bad, can he?</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-an laugh at my behavior, and that’ll never bother me! Say the d-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“DO YOU EVER STOP TALKING?” Amaya was <em>deeply</em> regretting her decision. The normally shy bird had gradually gotten bolder until halfway through the trip he had started <em>singing. </em>Ignoring the fact that the first time she even heard his voice it was through song, she couldn’t fathom how anyone would put up with this. “</span>
  <span>Sorry. I’ll be quiet” </span>
  <span>She was frustrated because he didn’t seem to realize that singing loudly in the middle of the forest, even if on a sidetrail to one of the most traveled roads on the continent, was not an amazing idea. “Its like you’re trying to get everyone in the forest to know where you are!” He looked particularly worried about that, eyes darting around for some unseen observer. He wasn’t good at hiding that he was avoiding someone. <em>What are you hiding?</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asking wouldn’t get her an answer. He was naive, not stupid. Instead, an awkward silence started between the two. The only sounds were branches swaying in the wind, Lews plodding steps, and the occasional feral call. This lasted until Lew suddenly stiffened up, nervous energy manifested in the form of ruffled feathers. Amaya wasn’t sure why he had stopped until she saw the torracat on the path heading the opposite direction as them; straight towards them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the torracat showed no outward reaction but to nervously glance at the both of them, likely fearing they were bandits, Amaya’s posture relaxed. Lews did as well, just to a lesser degree. He was still fidgety and kept eyeing the torracat after they had passed. The noise his feathers made when he was all puffed up was unpleasant and she almost said something. <em>I want to find out what his deal is. None of it makes sense.</em> </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually they encountered serenity river. The fresh water it supplied was a welcome respite. Lew in particular seemed to take his time drinking, practically stuffing himself with water. Travel was routine from there. Follow the river, snack on any forageable food they encountered, and scare off any ferals that got pushy. The only time this differed was when they encountered the mystery dungeon that was on the river. She insisted that they go through it but Lew was adamant that they go around, going so far as to refuse going close to the dungeons border. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they got closer and closer to treasure town Lew seemed to get more and more nervous. ”Hey, I’m going to go find some food.” Amaya knew this was an excuse to get away from her. He had eaten not an hour prior. She didn’t question it anyway, only giving a nonchalant “ok” as her answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knew that as she entered Treasure town she wouldn’t be seeing him again today. Possibly not ever again even.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Indecision, home, and regret.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warning, this chapter has at least one morbid scene.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span>Chapter 4: Indecision, home, and regret</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Various buildings lay in the distance. Many had their own quirks, varying in color, design, and artistic flair, with some even being shaped like specific Pokémon species. In a previous life it may have seemed odd or out of place. To Lewis it was marvelous. Yet it was also out of reach. He had no clue what would happen to him if he was captured, but he did not plan on finding out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It hurt him that he could not experience what had been a direct influence on his childhood in the flesh, even if it was different from what he had known. More developed. The roads were actually cobbled, though there seemed to be areas where this wasn’t the case for more subterranean species to surface from below ground. Structures were more permanent. Wood, stone, glass, and even metal in some cases were all to be found. Further into the town the buildings were disorganized, a remnant from when the town was still growing. Someone must have made an effort to make the town more orderly at some point to stop the entire place from becoming a maze as it got more orderly further from the center. It almost made a sort of inner town, as if the original Treasure town was not to be touched. Sure the outskirts of the town were disorganized, but many of the buildings there were less permanent or were tents.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lewis wasn’t sure if his current location was frequented much, but it made for a great vantage point and shelter. It was a small copse of trees on a slight hill, just east of town. It was just one of many hills like it, all stemming from the mountains just east of them. He chose the particular one he was in because it had multiple large boulders on it. He found the rocks easy to climb. His instinctual mind found comfort in this, though he could only speculate why. Maybe the ease in which he could quickly gain height on intruders by climbing them? He had slept on the hill just the previous night and was resolved to make his home better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His day was not spent scoping out Treasure town. That could wait.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, he spent time moving one of the larger boulders up against the largest there was. Of the five boulders, two were his height, one was nearly twice his height, and one was slightly triple his height. The last was pathetically small. He was just shy of fitting it in the grip of one of his feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the boulders together he started the grueling task of creating a home. He needed to be careful, as he was making an alcove in the largest rock by removing pieces from it. This was achieved by placing his talons on the part he wanted to remove and gripping until cracks started to form. Rather than continue until an area was gravel, potentially damage the rock, he would try to remove pieces that had cracked by shimmying his talons into the gaps. It was slow and arduous task.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I need to find some clay. I can make some shitty walls using all these rock chunks if I have some. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He had grown bored of his current task. With clay in his thoughts he decided he might as well get some. <em>No taking breaks, my anxiety will act up if I stop.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The river was a welcome sight. He was thirsty and dirty. His salvation from both flowed in front of him, all he had to do wade in. We wasn’t very good at cleaning himself. He hadn’t ever <em>properly </em>washed himself in this body before, just went for a dip to remove blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An issue was quick to present itself. To really fix everything he would need to preen. <em>I refuse to act like an animal. No.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stubbornness manifested in numerous failed attempts to clean himself more. He tried submerging himself for longer periods of time, but shaking the water out of his feathers made it so that he would need to preen some and straighten others afterwards. A twig was used to poor effect; it just couldn’t straighten bent feathers. It removed first some but not well. It also tasted bad, as he lacked hands to hold it and had to resort to his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gave up when nothing else worked. The preening felt good and it disgusted him. It wasn’t a bad experience, it was just decidedly animal, hence the disgust. <em>I may never get used to this. I pray I won’t ever have to.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It turns out washing multiple days worth of dirt away in a populated river was something that could have consequences. The dewott growling at him really didn’t enjoy it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ok ok ok. Ok. It’s fine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He soon found out it was not fine when he received a nasty gash on his chest from a scalchop. It was by far the deepest wound he had received in his brief life. Things got worse when the feral decided hitting where it hurts, literally, was it’s best follow up. A water gun blasted straight into his new wound. The energy of the attack pummeled him and the wound further widened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He began a mad scramble not towards the shore, but toward his aggressor. His kicks were often dodged and retaliation came in the form of more water guns, slashes of razor shell, and an ever increasing ache to his body. He felt the residual energy of each attack, that inexplicable force that the Pokémon used. He himself had felt it before when he lashed out particularly hard. And then it clicked. He had done it before in combat, just never with thought. He had done it plenty of times outside of fighting easily as well. The next time the dewott came in for a razor shell the scalchop was swiped up in his talons. It fell as dust from the rock smash that compressed it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rock smash may have normally been a punch, but the energy of Pokémon was something that was flexible. The dewott was shocked, but did not back down. Their scuffle continued as they lunged at each other and fell into a heap under the surface of the water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lewis’s chest burned as he writhed and kicked blindly. The dewott had the home turf advantage but Lewis had more adrenaline than sense.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He did something he would regret that day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took a single grapple. He heard it’s water distorted screech as he managed to grab hold of its head with a set of talons. And he squeezed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There wasn’t anything left. All was quite besides the sounds of the river, forest and Lewis’s heavy panting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dragging himself to the river bank, Lewis shivered from fading adrenaline and the implications of what he had just done. He found himself gagging, unable to stomach his actions. His breakfast of forest apples left him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I killed it. It’s dead. Gone. Just like that. This is so fucked up. I... I need to get away from here.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While his wounds were bad, his shock was worse. When he made it to his hill he nearly forgot he was even wounded. A stashed Oran berry helped with that. His wounds weren’t gone, but the bleeding gradually decreased until the beginning of scabs started to show on his cuts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I killed it. It was so.... easy. Just a single squeeze. Could it have done the same if it cut my neck in the right spot? No. I felt resistance when I was squeezing. A palpable energy that slowly gave way. I did this. I didn’t need to, but I continued. The fight drained him of energy, it made his body easier to harm. It’s my fault. It’s my fault. It’s...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lewis didn’t feel as if he could do anything else today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he didn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sun shined onto grey rock and orange feathers. Still sore from yesterday, Lewis had to fight himself to get up. Before he even stood he remembered yesterdays events. The immediate shock had faded some time earlier the day before, but the pain he felt did not. It was not a physical thing, like the pain of his cuts. Even then he felt it in his chest, heavy like a rock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I have work to do. I can’t wallow in misery another day, as much as I want to.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lewis went up to the back of his large boulder and decided to do something that would later become a habit, though he did not know that at the time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scratched “dewott” into the rock. The English stood out, a reminder of the past in more way than one. It briefly greatened the burden on his chest and made him long for the comforts of modern technology.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He returned to the river that day. It hurt but he needed the clay eventually.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Half of a fallen log, one end mangled by a crushing grip, was dragged away from the river. On it was as much clay as he could fit on it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He later nervously returned to cover the drag marks of the log, berating himself for doing being so foolish as to not do so earlier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Molding and packing the clay was hard. He was getting a better handle of his grip strength but he wasn’t quite there yet. With clay being so easy to mold, any too hard squeeze had messy results.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t the cleanest clay either. It had dirt in it. <em>Nobody</em> likes dirt. <em>Except maybe ground types.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hours of work went by. Progress stacked up, metaphorically and physically as well in the form of an increasingly large pile of rocks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A pidgey stole one of his berries, he fell down the hill once, and he almost twisted his ankle in a hole. <em>Life problems</em>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Other than that his day went smoothly. That doesn’t mean he was happy. Far from it. He wasn’t sure how long it would take to get over his actions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a backwards logic to his thoughts on his ongoing mental recovery. On one hand he wanted to get over the death quickly because it was painful to deal with the emotions. On the other hand he feared the implications of getting over death in a timely manner. <em>There really is no winning, is there?</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Time to do something else.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If I don’t speak to someone I might just break.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seclypse wasn’t expecting to find large orange feathers in the river.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was there to fish, not be worried. The feathers reminded him of his encounter with ‘the bird’ days ago. The bounty had been raised by five thousand poke since then, but there had been no sign of the thing. It had previously been spotted often, being overly aggressive and downright murderous until recently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>People had started making up names for it. ‘Orange blur’, ‘lightning eyes’, and more commonly just ‘kicker’. The guild master frowned upon it, and the majority simply just called it ‘the bird’, but that didn’t stop the more imaginative guild members from making names and telling stories. More than once he had heard small teams boasting about how they would “take down the bird” before anyone else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ahm sick of children. Always ready tah get themselves into a bind jus tah</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>need help later.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seclypse couldn’t easily pick up the feathers but with some fiddling he managed to use both his blades to put each away. What few had been obtained by others had actually been sold as souvenirs or for fashion. It turns out that people like colors that stand out, especially in a form that’s unique, such as from a feather of an undiscovered Pokémon. It would either fade out of style eventually as more of the same species was found or eventually, they would rise in value. It had happened before. Feathers from ho-oh were extraordinarily expensive for example. Scales, feathers, claws, all of them sold if they were rare. Sometimes as baubles, sometimes as something useful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll keep em for awhile. Best no one starts peekin around or asking questions.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a bag stuffed with fish and feathers, Seclypse headed for home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His home wasn’t anything amazing. A six-room house near the beach, with a berry bush outside and a tree some distance away for shade if he wanted to rest outside. The bottom floor had four rooms. The floor was wood in all but the kitchen, where crudely cut stone took its place. The second story had two rooms, and a door led onto the rest of the roof for various things. A couple potted plants were up there. Most of his furniture lacked cushions. They would get wet if he came back after a swim. Still though, he had a comfy cushioned chair in his living room that had a stand next to it for books. It was hard to turn pages, but he managed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were windows in various places, with two being in the living room. He was unable to light candles until himself when he had the place made, so he mostly relied on natural light. He had Fugo now for candles though. Luminous orbs were expensive and didn’t last forever, but he had some for emergency lighting in the night as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the living room was one of his teammates, a blaziken. The aforementioned Fugo.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Usually callous and rude, the bird was actually very loyal. He seemed like the kind of person to ditch you if there was too much trouble but to Seclypse’s surprise he refused to ever do such a thing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>More than once he had been bashful after praise for not running when some others would have. He was a many things, though the kabutops ascribed him with ‘a handful’ most often.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Got some food?” The blaziken queried. “Sure thing! Got some fish and some magost berries I found.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lunch was quiet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Fugo picked up Seclypse bag. “Ey!” The blaziken looked like he been caught with his hand in a cookie jar until he quickly regained his bearings and “tough” facade. That is until he saw the orange tip of a feather sticking out of the bag.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where did you get these?! Are these what I think they are?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I... Bought em.” Fugo looked at him with disappointment. “We both know that you wouldn’t wear anything that didn’t have purpose. Out with it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I swear on my shell, yeh can’t make this kind of stuff up.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I say where, you would be scurryin over there faster than a joltik! I beg your pardon but this could be a heap o’ trouble.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of dripping water made both gaze at the door. The soaked vaporeon looked cheerful until both started yelling at her for creating a massive puddle at the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“S-sorry!” Was all that was said as she stepped out of view.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two minutes later she was back, much drier than before. The conversation she happened upon made her nervous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m telling you Seclypse, we could do so much with that money! We could fund the creation of a larger team, even a team headquarters in another town that doesn’t have one of its own yet!” Fugo said with enthusiasm and desperation at the same time. “And ah said no! This is how people get blackmailed, framed, or even have their reputations ruined! Jobs like that are called fishy for a reason!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guys? What’s going on?” Fugo thrust an orange feather into her face, shouting “This is what’s going on!” Surprise played across Victoria’s face. She wasn’t sure she would see feathers like that again, like a talonflames but longer, sturdier, and slightly darker. “We should keep these! They’re beautiful!” Seclypse was quick to capitalize on this. “She’s right, we will keep them and tell no one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Victoria looked confused at his response but shrugged it off. They could argue for hours. Eventually Seclypse would win out. Sometimes she was impulsive and sided with Fugo, but Fugo was more impulsive than her. Seclypse was there rock in the storm. He provided reason, stability, and a home. Literally. Both had beds in one of the rooms of his house and slept there regularly. Victoria herself didn’t have a home when they had first met and Fugo eventually asked if he could move in so that he didn’t have to pay the dorm fees at the guild.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With both arguing she merrily took a feather without either noticing. Under her bed it went. They would forgive her, she knew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Just have to get a pin added to it, so I can attach it to my scarf... or well, get someone with hands to.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Victoria helped herself to some remaining lunch over the sounds of repetitive arguing and then made for the market. She wanted pastries.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Many different Pokémon wandered Treasure town. A servine chatted with a flaaffy. A machamp tugged a cart filled with stone down the road. A weavile bartered with a fruit stand owner over the price of a sitrus berry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Other such scenes were all around her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spindas cafe was crowded at this time in the day. While the original owner had long since passed, his daughter had taken up the mantle of café owner some 15 years ago. She was just as good to boot. Project-P had eventually ended, mostly due to an increasing difficulty to find new places. There was still a shop to swap items out for others there, it just dropped the name of Project-P. A mural dedicated to the project and its accomplishments occupied the wall right of the entrance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>A third shop had opened in the space in between the two original stores. It was a pastry shop, with a focus on berries from around the world. If you wanted to try pastries with ingredients from around the world or not easily found, this was the place to go. If you knew somebody you could even buy the berries themselves, though often with a markup. It was still a more reliable way to get them than typical merchants. The tyranitar that ran the place had connections. Yes, tyranitar. It took most a minute to get used to such a large Pokémon running a pastry business rather than a profession that relied on strength.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Vaporeon dear! What can I get for you?” The large Pokémon pleasantly asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Two aspear croissants please!” Victoria said with a smile as large as the Pokémon speaking to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paying for her croissants with a handful of poke, she then proceeded to get a drink from Spinda.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Delicious!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amaya was nervous. She had sold her sitrus berry already and was now delivering the package she had picked up. The reason she was nervous is because she was told to wait for a moment instead of receiving her pay, despite having confirmed that she had finished the job. That could only mean one thing, someone wanted to speak with her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A larger than average corviknight walked from the doorway further into the building. <em>What have I gotten into?</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you look into the package?” <em>Oh bother.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would have no way of even opening it without destroying the box, no I didn’t look inside.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The corviknight glared at her for a moment, likely daring her to talk back again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well. Here is your pay. Do be quicker next time.” And with that he took his leave. <em>He gives me chills and I’m an ice type. Dude is evil.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Mr. Corviknight’ as he was most commonly known was the leader of the best organized crime group in Treasure town. Also, the only lasting crime group. All others had been rooted out over the years or didn’t last long. New ones sprung up every so often, just as established ones fell. The only constant was Mr. Corviknight. His group had no name, it didn’t need one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It just needed him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amaya hurried out of the less reputable area she currently navigated. She had her money. Finally. She could buy a home. She had found one for sale that was a seven-minute walk from the base of the incline leading to the guild. She even had scheduled a meet up with the property owner later today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She spent her time preparing for that by gathering her money. With forty two thousand poke on hand she had never felt so pressured. The meeting happened before she knew it. She handed over most of the poke, she was handed the deed to the house, it was confirmed by the Department of Housing representative present for the transaction, and then she was left to her own device. She owned a house.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I own a house now. The building I am in is entirely my own. I own it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wow, this feels great.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The house was an eight-room building with a good view and a good location. Easy access to most of the town, plenty of space, and good construction. It was one of the nicer houses in Treasure town, and she owned it. It had a four-room bottom floor entirely made of stone with a large common room, and a second floor on top of that made of wood. There was a balcony too that let you look into the road in front of the house. A much smaller balcony was on the opposite side of the house, facing towards the ocean. It was glorious. She still needed to buy furniture but that didn’t matter presently. She didn’t even care she would have to sleep on the floor if she didn’t buy a bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now all she had to do was deposit most of the rest of her savings at the bank, something she was happy to finally be able to use, then enter the guild.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it was getting late. That meant sleep. She was too excited for sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She spent some time gathering the various items she had stashed outside of town. An escape orb here, a blast wand there, some iron thorns under that over in that direction. By the time she got home- <em>home... god it feels good to think that. </em>She was exhausted and dirty from her gathering and day to day activities. The stress of meeting Mr. Corviknight and carrying her life’s savings had caught up with her. She wasn’t however too tired to jump at the scraping sounding from her seaside view balcony. The orange and black head with intense yellow eyes that peaked around the corner received a swift punch straight to the face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of a body thumping onto the ground combined with a loud squawk graced her ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You dick. Was your plan to rob me in my sleep?” Amaya spat at Lew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“NO, NO I SWEAR!” Lew shouted, panic in his voice. “I JUST-PLEASE JUST WAIT!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Talk!” Amaya stood over the prone form of Lew, scowl on her face. “</span>
  <span>I needed someone to talk to...</span>
  <span>” he mumbled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Speak up!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I n-needed someone to talk to!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amaya was confused. She did not talk. Not in the way he meant. That sort of emotional stuff wasn’t her sort of thing. “You couldn’t have spoken to someone you properly know?” Amaya was getting increasingly mad.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You broke into my house to talk to me?! I’m tired, Lew! You broke the law to talk to a stranger. Just go... leave.....” when he didn’t things escalated. “GET OUT!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jus-“ The Weavile didn’t let him finish before she continued “GO! LEAVE! GET AWAY! NOW!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“List-“ Amaya was shaking in rage. This was her big day, and while it was just about over, the bird just had to rain on her parade.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I SWEAR I WILL FREEZE YOU IF YOU DONT GO, SO HELP ME ARCEUS!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I KILLED FOR THE FIRST TIME TODAY!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That stopped Amaya. She wasn’t expecting that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I killed a-and I can’t stop thinking about it! I feel so guilty! It’s al-already been over a day and I can’t stop my mind from drifting back to it if I don’t keep m-myself busy! When I eat, I remember the smell of the b-blood! When I rest, I remember the fatigue after the fight! Everything keeps reminding me!” Lew was sobbing. Looking closer she noticed the large healing gash on his chest. His feathers hid it well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“O-okay... How about you... come inside?” Amaya was mean, not cruel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Talk to me about it. Deep breaths.” It took him a moment to become composed enough to talk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was at Serenity river. A dewott got mad at me for washing myself in the river and went after me. We fought and near the end we b-both brawled under the water. I...” Lew shuddered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay. The first time I killed hurt for me too. It was a zangoose in a dungeon. I still remember it all.” She said with resolve and a hint of sadness in her eyes. “You never completely get over it. It gets easier over time. For dark types it’s easier, but we still feel it. That feeling that comes with knowing that you’ve ended something permanently.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It happened so fast. One minute I was kicking and the n-next I had a grip o-on... on its h-head. And I squeezed. I could have stopped b-but I didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amaya winced at the gruesome picture described. She could only imagine, but it couldn’t have looked good.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I felt it.... I felt it you know?” Lew looked at her. “I felt it when it ended. In my grip, in the energy of it all, in the aftermath.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amaya felt... pity wasn’t the right word. Empathy. She couldn’t relate too much in a personal level, as they differed so much in body and how their first experiences had happened. Hers was much less gruesome.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lew... do you have anywhere to stay the night?” <em>Normally I would tell myself that I would regret this. I don’t care if I do, not this time.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-sorta. I’m still making it.” That intrigued her. He was making his own home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can stay here tonight if you need to.” Lew looked surprised. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, trust me. You need a good night’s rest and support.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lew looked at her. Unsure what to say, he said nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tomorrow will be a better day, Lew. Tomorrow will be a better day.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Guildhall and a Luxio</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span>Chapter 5: Guildhall and a Luxio</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The large pink building stood against the horizon. Some parts were faded, such as the braziers outside, but other parts looked remarkably new next to their neighboring materials. The building itself had undoubtedly been repaired more than once over the years. It showed in the faded pink of some areas. It was just that old.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wigglytuff guild got its name from its creator. While now retired, he was still around. Yet Amaya wasn’t here for him. She was here to join. The front entrance was always busy, a kiosk sat near the entrance with a line next to it. It was an unusual sight, but a necessary edition because of the amount of traffic the guild got.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Supposedly the grate by her feet was previously used to determine who was visiting and if they should be let in or not, but those days were long past. She could see foot traffic down below though, various mons going about their business for the day. It allowed her to see more than one floor too, a second grate further down that looked far newer than the one she stood on currently acting as a walkway for the traffic she was seeing. Activity further down was less common, but still present. Supposedly the guild master’s office was near there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a couple minute wait, Amaya entered the guild. A winding staircase was the only visitor open entrance. There were other ways in, such as flying onto an outcrop on the side of the ridge the guild occupied, or other land-based entrances, but even going near them could get you detained without a badge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The main common room of the guild was spacious, with multiple metal reinforced logs serving as pillars to support the ceiling. There were drains in various places throughout the room in the event it flooded or water attacks were used, and candles in small alcoves on the walls or hanging from the ceiling lit up the place. The very center of the room had multiple luminous orbs hanging from a very spartan looking chandelier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>None of this was new to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hadn’t been in the place for a long time, mostly because doing so would make Mr. Corviknight refuse to let her work for him, but she still remembered it fondly. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t even a guild member, it felt very homey. Various teams chatted away, some amongst themselves, some with other teams, and some with visiting Pokémon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ‘aisles’ for lack of a better term tended to stay clear though. These were the straightaways between the main common room and any rooms connected to it, such as the hallway she saw earlier from the grate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The recruitment office was down that hallway. She went down it. There was a small group of Pokémon waiting in the chamber before the office, likely waiting to be allowed in. The room didn’t see a huge amount of traffic, but it was prepared for it, with benches along the walls for seating many waiting Pokémon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The waiting group consisted of a sizzlipede, tyrunt, blitzle, arbok and a luxio.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The tyrunt looked unsure if he was in the right place and the luxio looked very smug. The others adopted attitudes expected of a waiting room. Boredom, nervousness, excitement. Amaya stopped some distance from the group, looked them over, then walked to the nearest bench. “What’s your problem? Too good to stand like the rest of us?” the luxio spat. Amaya just frowned. Normally she would tell the stupid cat off, but she knew such behavior wouldn’t be tolerated in the guild. She could get refused just on behavior towards others alone. “Don’t have anything to say? Thought so.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The luxio seemed to think she had won the argument, regardless of there not really being on to begin with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She’ll change once she gets put in her place by someone or a feral.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wait wasn’t too long, but it was boring. Eventually they were ushered into a room for the first part of the test. A meowstic started handing out papers with questions on them. Supposedly no two tests were exactly the same, but Amaya really didn’t care about that. Her ambitions for joining the guild meant a lot of questions, something that eventually lead to her learning about the test. Naturally she had tried to find out as much as possible to improve her chances.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Have you been in a dungeon before?’ ‘Do you have a criminal record?’ ‘A teammate gets injured in a fight, what is the correct sequence of actions to take to help them?’ And more were laboriously answered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quicker than anyone else she was done. The luxio scowled at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I be-“ the Meowstic didn’t give a chance to finish the sentence “be quite while taking the test.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now all Amaya had to do was wait. The second part of the test was a combat test. She was no stranger to fighting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Better yet, she would be pitted against another student. <em>Please let it be the stupid cat.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The second part of the test will pit you against another test participant. I will call out names and those who I call out will battle in the middle of the room. Avoid damage to the room and to spectators. No permanent damage or crippling injuries. Weavile and Luxio”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>YES! This is going to be cathartic.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The luxio sauntered up with all the confidence in the world. Amaya took determined steps toward the middle of the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please stand in one of the two circles on either side of the room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both stared at each other, Amaya constantly looking for tells on how the luxio would act, and the luxio with a smug look on her face. Amaya could already tell the cat had no idea what it was doing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Begin!” Amaya darted forward while the luxio charged up electricity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The feline was standing completely still. <em>Did she really think this would work? </em>A swift kick to the side caused the luxio to fall down to the ground, making it lose concentration in its attack and also making it lose its breath. The match was effectively decided there as Amaya kicked and punched using the momentum she had acquired from her enemy’s single blunder. She didn’t even have to use moves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop! Weavile wins.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The luxio looked devastated but enraged. “HOW? N-NO! MEOWSTIC SHE CHEATED!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Luxi-“ meowstic began “SHE CHEATED!” Meowstic sighed and used psychic to force the cats mouth shut. “Be quiet. Continue and you won’t even be considered for recruitment.” The luxio’s eyes widened. She did not speak again, but she did grumble.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the battles were nothing to write home about. The only one who seemed to know what they were doing besides Amaya was surprisingly the tyrunt. The big-jawed lizard had absolutely crushed the arbok he was pitted against. Without using ground type moves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Huh. Certainly didn’t expect that.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the fights were finally over they were told to return tomorrow for the results. All of them shuffled out of the room and most made their way back to where they entered. The sizzlepede went off to the side to speak with some others. The tyrunt looked lost, somehow, despite having navigated the area to even get to the testing area to begin with. Amaya made her way outside, made her descent from the hill, and started heading home. Then the unfortunate happened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The stupid luxio started following her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keep going and see what happens.” Amaya threatened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The luxio looked like she was warring with herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait.” Amaya did not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop it!” <em>As if.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The luxio snarled and jumped in front of her. “Tell me how!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was lucky she asked before Amaya reacted, because she was about to sock the cat in the jaw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Amaya’s harmless question only further frustrated the luxio.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What makes you stronger than me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Experience, practice, correct decisions. You stood still and tried to attack me. The first rule of fighting is to not stay still unless you have to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The luxio only looked confused. “But you can’t hit nearly as hard if you only have half your attention on making an attack.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Is this girl serious?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s because it doesn’t matter. Over time you will get better at hitting harder. It becomes instinctual to use moves after a certain amount of time, and this extends to how well you do a move as well. It’s not about how hard you hit, it’s how consistently you hit with the same results.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The luxio only frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And your speed?” Amaya ignored her and kept walking. “Hey! I asked a question!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Impolitely” Amaya said, “with some sort of belief that I must answer you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The luxio kept following her, however. She had to stop otherwise the vindictive cat would know where she lived. “Last warning, follow and you’ll wake up an hour later sore where you stand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll pay you!” That took Amaya for a loop. “For what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Training! My grandpa won’t train me and everyone I’ve fought against never managed to make it to me before I attacked! I want to learn!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amaya considered it for a moment. “How much?” Amaya queried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One hundred poke a day!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Two” was Amaya’s counteroffer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And thus, the bartering began.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amaya settled on one hundred and twenty poke a day with a down payment of five hundred poke. She would use the down payment for furniture.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The luxio walked along side of her, seeming hesitant to say anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you live over here?” She asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I recently bought a house for myself. It took a long time to save up enough to buy it.” She said as they came upon their house. “It’s... nice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Is she disappointed? My house is better than three quarters of the houses in town and she’s disappointed? That explains so much. Rich kids suck.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, there’s some space outback that we can use. I will need to set some stuff up first though, and it will take a bit. Mostly just log structures for different types of training.” Amaya commented.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the luxio now paying her, it would be rude not to at least establish some form of rapport. She didn’t talk to many people, but she thought that inviting her inside for some food and to talk would be sufficient enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want to chat? Have a snack or drink?” She said while motioning to the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, sure.” The luxio did not look sure. Regardless they both entered the main room of the house. “LEW! YOU STILL HERE?” Amaya yelled up the stairs that hugged the wall. “Who’s Lew?” The luxio asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s a... friend. Yeah. Well go with that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Brief scuffling could be heard upstairs, faintly accompanied by the sound reminiscent of electricity Lew’s feathers made when they rubbed together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?” A voice called down the stairs “Weavile, is that you?” An orange and black head peaked around the corner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Such a casual response was enough to get Lew to start coming down the stairs. Then he found out Amaya had a guest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who’s that? Do you know them? Why are they here? Wha-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“LEW!” Amaya interjected over the birds nervous questioning “relax. It’s fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“O-oh. My bad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lew and the luxio just stared at each other. Amaya had to stop herself from facepalming over the awkwardness. <em>I have two Pokémon in my house who have no clue how to socialize properly. Heaven forbids.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Curie swore she had seen that orange somewhere. <em>Where though?</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was something that had been bugging her since she had entered the weavile’s house. They were having tea and some bread. Nothing like what she had back home, but it was okay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, she couldn’t stop looking at ‘Lew’.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had never seen a species like him before. He looked like the zapdos in one of her family’s paintings. <em>Except….leggy and orange.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me, I don’t mean to be rude but what are you?” Curie ventured.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The only thing that did was make the birds feathers puff out more. It was if they were permanently trying to make him look bigger. Maybe it was just a quirk of his species.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh. We don’t have a name.” Lew said. He did not look confident in his answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Through the steam trails of their tea, they both silently looked at each other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Weavile groaned. “I can’t deal with this anymore. You two are making me aggravated. Stop acting so weird.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t tell me what to do. You’re a- nope. Can’t keep thinking like that. Father said it was an issue and the last time grandfather saw me act like that he refused to talk to me for a week.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Curie came from a family of influence. Hers had a history in treasure town and had been around since before Wigglytuff had retired. She wanted to live up to her grandfather. Maybe even surpass him, though that was unlikely in her mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So how do you plan on training me?” Curie couldn’t help but ask.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll make you run courses of various types.” The Weavile started. “Every mistake you make I’ll correct until you stop making them and start getting faster. Once you aren’t as slow as a goomy we’ll stop that. During all of this we will occasionally spar, with advice being given in the same way as before. Weight training should be done on your own.” Her new teacher explained. It sounded simple enough. Her family had training facilities even. She wasn’t sure if she should say anything though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She mulled over it before eventually caving to the convenience not having to wait would provide. “My family has a bunch of training stuff. We can use that if we need to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Weavile started and stopped speaking multiple times. Eventually she settled on saying “I have yet to see an obstacle course that hasn’t sucked. All those ‘professionals’ that build those things for others are shams.” Curie was about to say something, slightly insulted. “BUT, I can take a look at them.” She continued. “If they’re good we can use them. The problem with those courses is they’re never harsh enough. They don’t want you to get hurt. It’s not the same with actual battle. You won’t learn what to do if you suddenly step wrong and begin to twist one of your ankles or wrists. Most only learn how to prevent injuries like that through experience, where it can cause death before you have a chance to learn from the mistake.” Curie didn’t like the sound of that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I for example haven’t twisted my ankle in a couple years, all because as soon as I feel it happening, I move my body in any way possible to prevent it, no matter how awkward or uncomfortable it may be. That might not sound like long but I’m out and about a lot, more than some guild members even.” The Weavile looked proud at that. Curie had to admit, it was slightly impressive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lew looked to be thinking. “What if you don’t have the time to maneuver in a way to stop it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amaya looked at him with a deadpan expression. “There are exceptions to everything. The only time I could see that happening is if I’m about to get hit.” She spoke. “At that point you have to block. If I need to get hurt to prevent something that would hurt more then I’m going to do it.” The Weavile said with resolve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well would you like to go check out those training courses?” Curie asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, why not. Do you want to come, Lew?” The Weavile asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I’ll stay here.” Curie noticed the stiffness of his posture. He was stressed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been inside all day, come on.” Weavile insisted. “No. I can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Weavile was clearly getting annoyed, her paws were clenched.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not!” She questioned. “I... I’m shy.” Lew said. “Thats a load of shit!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Curie just wanted to leave now. Their bickering was bothersome.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The orange bird glared at Weavile “it is not!” He said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, it is! You had no issues with talking to me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well that’s... well....fuck.” Lew said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah that’s what I thought.” Lew looked away in shame. “I can’t tell you. I have to stay out of sight okay? Please just stop asking questions.” He pleaded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s totally a criminal. Only criminals hide. Or his family is mad at him, though I don’t believe that because I’ve lived here my whole life and have never seen whatever he is.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lew... com-“ “no. Ask me to do anything else for you and I would say yes...within reason. But not that. I’ll be gone by tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was midday by now. It would be a while before he would leave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Weavile seemed determined to find out more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just tell us! It can’t be that bad!” She said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t even know you.” He said “at least not enough. I don’t even know your name.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Curie certainly wasn’t expecting such a blunt response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you tell me I won’t bother you about it ever again.” Yet Lew gave no ground. He was staunch in his refusal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that Weavile just walked away with a huff.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Curie and the Weavile headed through town all the way to the towns edge. “Follow me” Curie said. They ventured out of town until they came across a large stone fence. It wouldn’t do a great job of keeping determined Pokémon out, but it was as much of a status symbol as it was a wall. Few had this much land, and the fence said to all that came upon it that someone owned all that was behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow. It’s like a park or something.” The Weavile said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The gate was opened and off they went. The manor never ended up in view, such was the size of the land. Trees blocked it from view. Those same trees were part of a section of forest that contained the training grounds they were heading to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Coming upon a clearing, various structures stood in the open. To an uninformed viewer it may have looked like some form of experimental art.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Curie was broken out of her thoughts when the Weavile posed her a question. “Is this it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. This is the agility course my family had built ages ago. Supposedly a gurdurr built it, though he then moved over seas. Something about postage or something.” She spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not bad. Some of this stuff looks like it moves. Most courses don’t have that. But it still looks forgiving though.” Curie smiled at the praise to her family’s possessions, even if there was ‘but’ attached to the comment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>What followed was brutal by Curie’s standards. Barbaric even. The Weavile would sometimes jump in and push her among other actions while she was running the course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was not given breaks, and she was constantly told what went wrong, often harshly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was frustrating and at the end of it she was exhausted, but she found herself seeing things in her surroundings she hadn’t before. A patch of dirt here that she could slip on if it rained, a small rock there that could ruin a foot in combat. In hindsight such things seemed...obvious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why am I just now figuring this out?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They returned to the gate and bid each other farewell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The path to the manor was lined with well-trimmed hedges, gaps between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At her door was a Mr. Mime, her families head butler. They only had five staff members, but none were as permanent as him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Holding the door for her, she headed in just to flop onto the cool tile floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Moments later the mime had placed water next to her. He always knew what to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From there everything was routine. Eat dinner, prepare for bed, and then the sweet bliss of sleep. Except she found herself remembering where she had seen the orange of Lews feathers. She had seen a vaporeon who had had one of his feathers attached to her scarf before she took the test to enter the guild. <em>Guess I’ll ask her about it if I see her.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sleep took it’s hold and she drifted off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lewis was so tremendously bored. He had resorted to counting the knots in the wood, first of the walls, then the floor, and finally the ceiling. Eighty-one. There were eighty-one of them, he had counted twice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nightfall couldn’t have come sooner. The anxiety of sneaking out almost made him miss the boredom of earlier though. He was almost spotted multiple times and had to climb a building to get away from someone who thought they had seen something once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>While hurrying back to his little in progress but wouldn’t fix anything he found himself rushing. He was thankful that nothing had decided to start living in what little he had built while he was gone. He probably wouldn’t end up going into town again. Not soon, and hopefully never in ropes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He checked his berries, went into the forest and grabbed some branches that still had leaves, and then started making a bed. Tedious didn’t even begin to describe it. The end result hardly satisfied him and would do nothing to help him fall asleep that night. That was because he couldn’t fall asleep, he hadn’t done anything the entire day and was full of nervous energy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With nothing else but more work on the walls of his home available to distract him he resorted to getting more done.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not much time later what few clouds were in the sky had moved away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lewis was awed. The stars, like grains of sand. They burned so bright, beacons of hope. He had never been one for star gazing, but then again, he had always lived in areas with high light pollution. His better eyes only made the marvel before him greater.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I could get used to this... There’s so many.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He only slept once whispers of morning light began to show.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mr Corviknight wasn’t a devout Pokémon. He didn’t pray, and he didn’t believe in most of the legendries. Yet before him was a piece of proof. He could feel the power of the object in front of him. <strong>It</strong> stifled the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In storage and out of sight it revealed nothing. Only once his eyes landed upon it could he actually feel it. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew that it was strong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Weavile had delivered it in a tiny box earlier. It was so small for something so spiritually heavy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was two shades of blue and had clear areas of damage in two areas that made it look as if it was only a piece of a greater whole. Seems even the gods made mistakes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s name didn’t matter. It only mattered that it was his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a sort of reverence, he placed it into his safe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one could know about it. He had no idea how people would react, but it couldn’t have been in any way that was good.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew of at least two Pokémon who would pay a huge sum for it. There was a third one as well, but they were as likely to take it by any means necessary as they were to actually pay for it, and telling them to begin with would be risky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t even sure if he would sell it yet. The impact it had on him was unexpected, but welcome. He loved money, sure, but to feel as if you’re one step onto the path to understanding the very nature of the world was exhilarating and awe inspiring, even for someone who had seen as much as him. Not much surprised him anymore, but this did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He would need time to mull over how to proceed. So much time.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The source of your power, Admittance, and Evidence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span>Chapter 6: The source of your power, Admittance, and Evidence.</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Mid-morning had arrived. With it came nothing. Everybody was already up, the sun was already out, and the wildlife was teeming and undeniably abound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except Lewis. He had slept in, courtesy of staying up until the first rays of light had hit his home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even still, he had yet to lose whatever had come over him last night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a sort of contemplative mood. The kind that makes you ask questions not quickly, but deliberately and with much consideration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the front of Lewis’s thoughts was the how of things. How did moves work? In that vein, how did the energy of Pokémon work? That was the key that he had realized. With knowledge came power, and he sought to learn as much as he could.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing ahold of the energy inside of him was instinctual. In danger he had no issue moving the energy of his body like wind slipping past branches, but out of it he couldn’t easily do so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, he had been doing so to build his home, but it was a subconscious thing. Now that he focused on it he couldn’t do succeed at all, but when he drifted off in thought his use would continue. Until he would notice it again.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is frustrating. Isn’t it supposed to be in a Pokémon’s nature to do this? Why is it such an issue?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With anger came reaction. The rock he was holding was clenched into dust. An epiphany. He had just experienced the powers of his body firsthand while paying attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew where to reach now to grab that power. His success was limited, but he had taken the first step. He could only improve from there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so continued his normal day to day behavior. Find food, work on the house, gaze at Treasure town on the lookout for something that could help him, though he knew not how.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>An hour in and he could perform a rock smash a quarter of the times he tried. Not in the way he had back at the river or when building his house though, just a completely normal rock smash.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Disappointing yet incredible at the same time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Progress slowed down after that. Maybe he had lost his contemplative mindset, or something. He had no idea how his new mind really worked. At times he found himself doing things without noticing or paying attention to things that he wouldn’t in the past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A repositioning of the wings or a small amount of preening, though he caught himself over the latter more than once, sometimes only after he had done so though.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I may not have asked to come to this world or be stuck in this body, but couldn’t things have been less boring? I get this isn’t a game. I understand things are on the line-and that just worked up my nerves.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Mood ruined by anxiety, Lewis just silently continued on. A lifetime of panic had made him somewhat good at ignoring it, disregarding how it was in the form blatant avoidance of the issue that made him anxious at the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I refuse to worry about what I cannot change. I am worried, I likely won’t stop being worried and anxious, but I refuse. No.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Reign in the mind. Clear it. Find solace in distraction.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Create your own peace.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t always work, especially if the problem was in front of him, but with something as vague and nebulous as ‘issues you have to solve’ it would work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had to. The anxiety would become crippling if he let it.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wish I had an instrument. Also hands to play one. It might be possible with these feet, considering they’re pretty dexterous, though it would need to be durable. A task for the future, I suppose.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya was thrilled. Positively, absolutely, irrevocably thrilled. She had gone back to the guild as told for her test results to find that she was being considered for minimal training, meaning they thought she was good enough that they hardly had to teach her anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It also meant she had been accepted into the guild.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She almost cried after the initial shock had faded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled for the entire tour she was given later in the day. It didn’t matter that the tour didn’t cover certain areas of the guild, most importantly the lowest levels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even the luxio couldn’t bring her mood down.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Speak of the devil and they shall arrive. She looks... dissuaded?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not unhappy, but not smug like I thought she would be.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, what’s got you down?” Amaya asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well... I’m being considered for in the guilds words ‘rigorous training’” Luxio said with a small frown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know they have to train you, but I can’t have been that bad, could I? I bet I could wipe the floor with all the other trainees even, so what gives?” She spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya considered how to answer for a moment in a way that wouldn’t upset the electric cat. She didn’t want to deal with a pissy kitty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You showed no initiative. The most basic part of combat is movement and you showed that you didn’t value it by staying still.” She spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, that’s why you’re training me!” Luxio looked affronted. There was an air of annoyance around her. Or maybe it was static, Amaya wasn’t sure.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya sighed. “The guild doesn’t know you’re receiving training. They’re giving me training too, don’t sweat it.” Amaya hoped this would suffice. She could not let this wonderful day be ruined because of Luxio.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I bet yours just said ‘minimal training’.” Luxio said. Amaya was surprised but gave nothing away. “That’s just their way of saying ‘you’re good enough that we don’t need to teach you anything much at all but if we let you in without making it look like we trained you someone would get mad’. High ranked teams treat rookies who receive no training bad and it actually does make them look bad if they don’t train you. With a blanket statement like ‘minimal training’ you appease clients and professional teams. It’s politics.” Luxio spewed.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya was surprised at how insightful that was, even if Luxio had said it with vitriol in her voice. Maybe she could learn a thing or two. She had street smarts; the cat had book smarts.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>An added benefit. I’m not one to pass up an advantage if it’s given to me. I’ll just have to prod and see how much I can ask without seeming intrusive or manipulative.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They were currently in the guild cafeteria. Food was cheaper there, though not free. Only higher ranked teams got free food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But something was off. Three tables away sat a group of Pokémon. A kabutops, a blaziken, and a vaporeon, all chatting away.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was the vaporeon that drew her eye, or rather the feather she had attached to her green scarf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curiously enough, it seemed the luxio was staring as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lead had presented itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The luxio looked about ready to bolt over to them and start hammering out questions. Amaya’s glare and curt utterance of the word ‘sit’ however dissuaded the cat.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to ask about the feather, right?” Amaya queried.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Luxio looked surprised, though Amaya was unsure as to why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I want to know if she knows Lew.” She answered.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya wanted to ask just as much, she just didn’t show it. She had seen Lew leave last night, though he hadn’t noticed her. He was east, that much she knew from following him some. For something so brightly colored he had been surprisingly sneaky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We will ask later, okay?” She said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Luxio clearly didn’t love the answer, but nodded in the affirmative. “Okay. Yeah.” Was all she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From there they both left and went to train. Not for very long or very intensely though. Luxio would be receiving guild training later and couldn’t be drop dead exhausted. That was something to save for the weekends. Amaya had grudgingly accepted that she would need to be payed less on the weekdays because she wasn’t going to be able to give exactly what she had promised, but the deal still held for weekends.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With the mornings training done, they went to have a break.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya initially thought that meant going to the luxios house, but said cat had repeatedly said that they wanted to go to a cafe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya was fine with that. They went to a cafe. But that wasn’t enough for Luxio. They hadn’t even entered before the cat started complaining about how ‘it wasn’t spindas’ and that it ‘was a mockery of cafes’ before pushing Amaya in the direction of the famous cafe she had compared their original destination to.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t afford spindas. They’re good but I’m not made of money.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we go you’re paying.” Amaya demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay!” Luxio immediately answered. Amaya had expected at least some resistance, but then remembered the kid probably had deep pockets. Their family was rich after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stairway to Spindas cafe was just as inconspicuous as it was described in ages past. If you didn’t know where it was you would have trouble finding it. As buildings had sprung up over the years it had become less and less isolated. There was however this demarcation that buildings just didn’t cross, leaving the area just around the base of the incline to the guild clear. Except for Spindas of course. There were a couple of tables above ground for those who wanted to eat there and for when it was busy, but little else had changed in the many years the café had existed.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The staircase down was wide, and the sounds of conversation and soft music echoed up it. It felt welcoming, like you could just plop down and not have a worry in the world. Someone was playing a guitar, strumming a simple tune that reminded Amaya of the sunset. She knew the song. It was called Xerneas’s and Yveltal’s finality. The name sounded much more intense than the song itself. Most just called it “Fin” instead.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Luxio was behind her when they made it to the bottom. She didn’t notice when the feline bolted off. When she did, she saw her next to a lone vaporeon. The same one as earlier. What she heard made her feel dread. The cat had just made a massive mistake.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Did Lew give you one of his feathers? I didn’t know you knew him!” Luxio said.  The vaporeon just looked confused, but it only took a moment for her eyes to widen.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The cat has played every card at once. Either we’re in deep shit or we have roped ourselves into whatever the deal with Lew is.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did you meet Lew?” the vaporeon asked. The sinister question was completely ordinary to the luxio.<br/>
 “Weavile and I were having tea at her house and Lew was there.” She said. Amaya’s heart was thumping hard in her chest. Defusing the situation would only make it worse. She had to play with words as much as the vaporeon.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Luxio, that’s not a talonflame feather. Its not from Lew.” She said as calmly as possible, praying that Luxio would get the hint.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“But Lew I-“ The naive cat began, though was elbowed by Amaya. When she tried to say more Amaya just jabbed harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya was practically dragging Luxio now “I am so sorry for bothering you miss, we’ll just be on our way” was her stock response.<br/>
 </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait. Why don’t you sit and eat with me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I want nothing to do with you lady.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Weavile, I’m the one paying. We’re not going to just walk away when she’s being so polite!” The luxio winked too.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I will beat you next weekend for this. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Victoria certainly did not expect this. Two people the bird had spoken to, and they even had some sort of name for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is just my luck. I have to tell Seclypse about this! But first I have to eat these pastries. I mean talk to them. Yeah.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what do you think of Lew?” she asked. The weavile looked stone faced, but the slight twitch of her claws betrayed that she was <em>something</em>. Victoria wasn’t sure if it was anger, nervousness, fear, or something else, but there was something. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hes very nervous and paranoid. Other than that he was pleasant to talk to.” The luxio said. “Though he didn’t want to go outside. Said he was shy.” The luxio frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah he can be hard to get ahold of sometimes. He doesn’t like crowds and noisy places like towns.” While complete bullshit, Victoria had to say something to make it seem like she knew the bird. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you happen to know where he is? I’ve been trying to get into contact with him for days now. He was supposed to be here. He probably just couldn’t work up the nerve to actually enter town.” <em>This better work.</em> </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know but Weavile might.” Luxio supplied. The weavile refused to make eye contact. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Victoria tried to goad them by saying “Well? Its very important I speak to him. He’s a friend and the way he has been acting has me worried. He used to not be like this.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A short silence passed before the weavile hesitantly spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… How about this. Tell me the truth. There’s loads more to this than him being afraid of people. Just tell me the truth and I’ll consider it.” Weavile said. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Victoria was faced with a choice now. Spill the beans on a private whitelisted bounty or lie. Taking chances was fun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He has a bounty.” Victoria said. The others reactions were mixed. The luxio looked appalled, as if she had committed some taboo. The weavile didn’t look surprised at all though.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How much is the bounty?” the weavile asked, seemingly right before the luxio could say the same thing.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“four thousand poke” she said, as confident as possible. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice try, but you’re lying. Nobody would fear society over a bounty that size.” An angry weavile said. “Stop playing with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Victoria wasn’t sure what to do now. Then the luxio decided to throw words at her. “MY <em>Grandfather</em> was one of the founders of team<strong> Pokepals</strong>! If you don’t tell us, I’ll get him to let me talk to the guildmaster!” The luxio said while baring her teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Now the luxio was the center of attention. Multiple Pokémon at other tables had heard her say that, all with the same result. They stared. She shrunk backwards, making herself look smaller.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The species checks out, but it must be a bluff. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Victoria reasoned. Then the weavile walked away.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“W-weavile! Where are you going? You can’t just leave me here!” Luxio begged. Weavile did not look happy when she looked back. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t think that this sort of information was important? You didn’t think to tell me? Then you just blurt it out in front of a bunch of strangers? Do you have any idea how insulting that is?” The weavile was <em>fuming</em>. “We are going to talk about this later.” She spoke in a menacing tone.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“B-but Weavile!” Luxio cried out. She was shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew you were rich by the land your family owned, but this is different. This is about trust. This could impact my reputation before I have even had the chance to build one. Yours too. Why didn’t you think of that?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was then that Victoria knew that the weavile was serious. That what the luxio said may not have been a bluff.  That everything was falling apart at the seams.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do I really want to take that chance? No. Chances got me in this situation to begin with.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>After trying and failing to garner their attention multiple times she ended up just walking in between them. “Just follow me and I’ll tell you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She believed that would be enough. It was. They took their places behind her as she headed towards the exit.<br/>
 </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The beach was a sight that Victoria found more meaning in than just sand and water. It was home, relief, and a sense of adventure all bound in a massive expanse of water. Her current place of residence wasn’t far from the shore after all, and she was a water type to boot. Forget the stereotypes about water types and obsessing over water, swimming was like flying but with more maneuverability. Not that she knew what flying was like, she just found the third direction of travel that water provided similar to flight. To be able to go straight up or down yet see all was a gift only shared by those in the air. Other types may have been able to dig, but they lacked the visual aspect of it. They would never understand.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I need to pay attention. Forget water.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They came upon her humble abode. She thought of it as such, not caring she had zero ownership of the place. Home was home, she would call it such.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“SECLYPSE! WE HAVE VISITORS! THEY’RE GOING TO NEED SOME ORAN BERRIES!” she said. The key was the oran berries. That they were <em>going</em> <em>to need them</em>. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><span>“How many times do I have tah tell you, we won’t be doin’ such things here!” Seclypse scolded her from inside the house. No jumping people today. </span><br/>
<br/>
 “What did he mean by that” Luxio asked, all while Weavile glared at her. She knew. She totally knew. </p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She ignored that and entered the house with them. Fugo sat on some cushions, snoring. Seclypse was in another room.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Probably doing…kabutops stuff. Or something. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Stomping past Fugo because even a rampaging tauros couldn’t wake him up, they went to the dining room. Cushions were set around a low table. Seclypse waited for them there, with a map in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what brings yah to my home? Vaporeon here- who really should think before yellin’ personal things like names! -clearly has business with yah” he said. Victoria shrunk back at being chastised. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Se- I mean Kabutops, they know about the bird.” She said. That should be enou-</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Loads of people know bout the bird. What makes this different?” the hard exterior Pokémon said. Victoria had déjà vu. Hadn’t something like this happened involving the bird days ago? She couldn’t remember. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“They never got put on the whitelist for the bounty.” She started, trying to emphasize just how important the next thing she would say was. “and they have spoken to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Seclypse did a double take. “Wha- why didn’ yah say so earlier!” he shouted. Fugo snored particularly loudly in the other room at his raised voice. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I just got here Se-Kabutops. I just found out about this. They refused to let me go so I said we could talk about it.” Victoria said with conviction and a hint of irritation. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The weavile decided that she was taking too long and had something to say about it.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did not come here to listen to bickering. Just tell me the truth about Lew.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Victoria expected Seclypse to be angered, but instead he looked uncomfortable. As uncomfortable as a stone faced pokemon could look anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You know its name?” he spoke as if it burned him. Victoria had never seen the kabutops act this way over something so inconsequential. It wasn’t that important, it was just a bounty, nothing was wrong. So why was he acting otherwise? </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The weavile looked… sad? Victoria wasn’t sure. Dark types confused her anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Its not his actual name. He doesn’t know what he is, or so he claims, so he just said to call him that. Its probably a nickname. But that isn’t what we’re supposed to be talking about. The bounty, how much is it really?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Victoria glanced at Seclypse. Turns out he had the same idea, as their eyes ended up meeting. Neither wanted to say the truth and both wanted the other to be the bearer of bad news. Seclypse was the more responsible of the two it seemed, as he took the mantle.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Seventy” He uttered without a trace of emotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Multiple emotions flashed across the weaviles face. Anger, sadness, fear. It settled on a weary tiredness, as if she couldn’t be bothered to put up with what was happening around her anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The luxio however looked horrified. Her legs even shook some, as if she had chills.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya was tired. Everything had been so simple until a couple days ago. Massive bounties, paranoia, the attention of a crime lord, training the granddaughter of a hero, and completely changing her establish routine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had nothing to say. She just wanted out right now. She wanted to sleep. Dreaming was easy. Having dreams was too, yet her dream of experiencing the world had barely started and she had dealt with all of the previous already. She wasn’t giving up, far from it. It was too soon for that. That didn’t mean she couldn’t take a moment to look everything over. She needed to process it all. Snapping herself out of her reverie, she sought to finish what she was dragged into with the vaporeon. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” she asked “would he have such a high bounty?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Nobody really knows. The bounty was privately assigned, and it says that he is feral. We all know that isn’t true now, so if guild administration gets word they’ll either void the bounty or raise it as he has killed civilians before.” Vaporeon said. That put another hiccup into everything. More that just didn’t add up. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya found herself defending Lew, oddly enough. “That’s not true. He came crying to me only days ago about how he had to kill for the first time. Said it was a feral dewott by Serenity river.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The kabutops perked up at that. “I found the feathers by the river. Now I don’t know how much truth there is to wha’ you’ve said but him fightin’ by the river is true enough.” He paused for a minute in thought, finally adding “do you think we can talk to em? Maybe bring em to us? Promise not to turn him in right away. Have to hear his side first.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>All three startled when the luxio in the room flashed with electricity. “We will NOT be hearing a CRIMINAL and MURDERER out!” she practically screamed. The blaziken in the other room mumbled and snored louder.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya did something stupid. She laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“hehehhahahHAHAHA..ha hehe.. oh that’s great! OH, I haven’t laughed like that in a while.” She sighed wistfully. Luxio looked pissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are looking at this like it’s a black and white situation. Everything is in shades of grey. There is clearly more to this than what meets the eye, so why are you acting like everything is decided?” She added.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t funny! I had tea with a murderer! You did too! Why a-“ She ranted and ranted. Amaya stopped listening fairly quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you done? Because I am. Done listening that is. Everyone here is in agreement except you, all because you have this childish view of the world that you refuse to budge on. Grow up or get out.” Amaya ruthlessly said. She was considering going back on their agreement over training at this point. The luxio was more trouble than she was worth.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We will solve this. Doesn’t matter if it's tonight, tomorrow, or next week, we will. I’m not letting some egocentric pissy zap cat stop me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Face of our Problems</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span>Chapter 7: The Face of our Problems </span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lewis sometimes wished that birds could sweat, and that feathers didn’t suck. Today was the hottest day he had experienced in his admittedly short life. His feathers made him feel stuffy. They kept heat out just as well as they kept it in, but inevitably in the end once he was heated up things became so much worse. Sure, getting hot to begin with was hard because of the feathers, but that didn’t matter when you felt like thanksgiving dinner by mid-day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was currently sprawled out in the shade of a tree, wings extended as far as they could be. It was a poor attempt to create as much surface area for heat dispersion as possible. He had tried cooling down using water, but it turned out that the downy feathers of his chest and other areas were great at wicking water away from the rest of him. Which meant away from the open air. He now could confidently say he knew what being a walking water balloon felt like. Downy feathers were absorbent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Speaking of feathers, he had gotten more accepting of taking care of himself. The preening and feather removal still bothered him on an intellectual level but something about not doing so was getting to him. It was a war between his pride and how he should or would have acted if he were native, also known as instinct. His home now sported a healthy spattering of old feathers, each a little line of orange or black, sometimes both, all having been removed by him. This annoyed him to no end. Thankfully the rate at which he had to remove feathers had decreased after he had initially cleaned himself up. Damaged feathers had built up, making the time he spent removing them longer than he wanted. He only removed newly damaged ones now because otherwise he would have to go through all of that again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t been paying much attention. Exhaustion did not create a state of mind suited for caring about the world around you. He didn’t have a chance to hear the footsteps behind him, his panting being too loud and the steps being too soft. What he did notice was the two seeds stuffed into his mouth though, but not before having them forced down his throat. The seeds took a moment to do anything, as his neck was long, and they needed to travel down it. The few seconds he had were used to stare in the face of betrayal. They felt longer than they should have, and he briefly felt why before he collapsed into sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That should keep him down long enough to tie him up” Amaya said. She didn’t want to be doing this but now was not the time for regrets. There was no going back now. She had set out a day ago to find where he lived, then met up with the others once she had figured out where he was staying. Preparation began afterwards. Seeds were gathered, some wands were acquired, and scarfs were donned. They checked their bags thrice, except luxio, who claimed to have done so already while bragging that she knew where everything inside of her bag was at all times. Amaya doubted that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then they had arrived, just to find Lew practically incapacitated from exhaustion. He had likely overworked himself due to anxiety she knew. From what little interaction she had had with him she got the impression he was not the most stable Pokémon. Most other days that would be fine, but today was just too hot. Summer was coming, and it showed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet there was no pitched battle or frantic pursuit. Just a sleep seed and a stun seed aided by a little sneaking. Just about everyone other than Amaya looked disappointed. It seems that having a high bounty made others expect much from you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not much was said after that. A passing comment here or there was really it. The partially built hut - no doubt the work of Lew - ended up being where they dragged his awkwardly tied up form. Amaya tried not to laugh as his head flopped around. She instead settled for telling someone to hold it before his neck broke. It didn’t help that Luxio wanted to be rough with him and ignored the demand, letting someone else take her place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what now?” the blaziken asked. What made him ask that eluded Amaya. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What is there to do besides wait for him to wake up or wake him up ourselves? Might as well look around the place, I guess.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amaya started with the inside. One large unfinished room. Clay and rock walls. A bed of leaves in the corner. A hole lined with leaves and filled with various berries, covered by flat rock. Extremely ordinary.<br/> The outside was next. Just as bland as the inside, really. Some boulders pushed together, scattered stones, a message written in ancient unown, some loose feath-<br/> <br/> <em>Hold on what? </em></span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amaya took a moment to take the script in. She couldn’t read it, but she just wanted to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. No matter how she looked at it, it remained the same. D e w o t t, it spelled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everyone, come look at this.” She called out. Shuffling feet and kicked pebbles sounded out, no doubt from the others coming over. They didn’t know what to make of the text either. The luxio claimed to know a smattering of unown words but had no clue what it said when she took a closer look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be damned. This is mighty odd.” Kabutops said, seeming humbled. Maybe he had never seen unown before. Examples of it were not common, and few knew it. Some words had never even been translated, so the language wasn’t complete either. The implications of a single word of unown did not escape the kabutops. Amaya added it to the list of mysteries.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It just keeps piling up. How much more is there that I don’t know? This is exactly the kind of stuff I want to experience for myself! And…the answers are asleep in a shed next to me. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was then that they all heard groaning from within the unfinished building they were next to. A mad scramble to make it to the entrance began, some more enthusiastic to make it than others. Amaya watched the blaziken get his legs swept out from under him by a rushing vaporeon, only for the luxio to barely dodge his falling form straight into stepping on a sharp pebble. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amaya reached the doorway right after the vaporeon to see Lew struggling. He had a panicked look in his eyes but was making little headway on his bindings. They had tied him up well. They had also gagged him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a huge panicking bird in a small building the natural response would be to get out as fast as possible. Amaya instead tried to calm him. This consisted of repeated statements of how everything would be fine and that he wasn’t in danger. It didn’t work and she received a shove from bound legs in the middle of one of her sentences as a reward. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then the vaporeon made the worst decision possible; she attacked. A blast of water was promptly on its way towards Lews face, and high-powered water is capable of cutting ropes. All it did was heighten his panic and free his beak. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Panicking can often contain a lot of screaming.<br/> <br/> “LET ME GO LET ME GO <strong>LET ME GO!!!!!!</strong>” Lew screamed, much to Amaya’s annoyance. Her ears hurt now. She was faced with a decision. Escalate the violence or end it while hoping for the best. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vaporeon was not expecting Amaya to jump at her. The violence had indeed escalated, just not how anyone had expected. Lew actually stopped screaming to take in the fighting going on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was around then that the rest of the group arrived. Luxio tried to rush past towards Lew, who then promptly asked her for help. He was shocked for his efforts.<br/> Blaziken pulled a snarling Amaya off of a bruised Vaporeon, getting nicked by claws for doing so. Kabutops busily tried to make it around the others to do Arceus knows what. The scuffles continued for a moment until arguably the most mature Pokémon present got tired of it all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span> <strong>“YALL SETTLE DOWN NOW OR THINGS WILL GET WORSE!” </strong>boomed the overwhelming voice of Kabutops.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That stopped half the struggle, but the luxio was still attempting to shock the life out of Lew. At this point his bindings were smoldering. Amaya could hear them straining from Lews panic ridden struggle. <br/> And so, for the second time ever she proceeded to kick a luxio. The same luxio even. <em>Might as well make it a sport.</em> Only then were things truly calm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p><span>Everybody had suffered in some form. Kabutops likely would have a raspy voice, Vaporeon would feel sore for the rest of the day just as well as Luxio, Lew would have burns that stung, Blaziken received minor scratches, and Amaya had never felt more responsible. Guilt was a bad feeling.</span><br/> <br/> <em>I should never have brought them here. Things would have gone better if I had come alone. Things are always better alone.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment of silence passed. Everybody was too tired to bother doing anything. Nobody wanted to be the one to break that peace either. Minutes passed before Amaya said anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Walking up to Lew she glared. “I think we deserve the truth. Why are you wanted?” she demanded. She may have had more on her mind than that, but it wouldn’t do to pepper him with questions faster than he could answer them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I d-don’t understand!” Lew stuttered. Denial was usually the first thing anyone resorted to when faced with an interrogation. Amaya knew that, though she didn’t dwell on why she knew. Those were bad memories.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I don’t believe that. You’re running, which means you know you have a bounty.” She declared. “I doubt that you would have got away if you had no clue about it, you were ready to run.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I don’t know a thing! I swear! I j-just started getting chased!” He cried. He was shivering in fear, something that Amaya hoped to never see someone do again. Especially not by her hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“LIAR! <strong>MURDERER!</strong>” Luxio started screaming. Lew flinched. Amaya glared and lowly growled at Luxio. It wouldn’t be productive to escalate things again and she wouldn’t tolerate behavior like that anymore. The atmosphere was tense enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t k-know why I’m wanted; I promise!” He pleaded. “I want to know why as much as you do! I didn’t kill anyone, not on purpose!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not on purpose?” Amaya asked. He had let that slip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It wasn’t me! You can’t let them take me, you can’t, you can’t, <strong>you can’t!</strong>” He rambled. The pleading look in his eyes was directed at Amaya despite her recent betrayal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A look of recognition crossed his face when he looked over the others in the room. “I’ve seen them! T-they attacked me first! Further past where I first met you! I’ve seen them!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seen who?” Amaya asked, looking pointedly at the others present in the room. Vaporeon looked away, giving her something to push on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well?” she asked. “Are any of you going to fuss up?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was Kabutops that admitted. “We went and gone after him couple o’ days ago, yes we did.” He spoke. “He had just killed a guild member, a kadabra.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“THAT WASN’T ME! IT WASN’T” the shouting started again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“<strong>LEW! SHUT UP!</strong>” a fuming Amaya yelled. Sighing, Amaya continued “if it wasn’t you then who was it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lew could only sputter. He wasn’t sure what to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I TOLD YOU HE WAS A MURDERER! WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR, HE- OW!” Luxio’s shouting was interrupted by a tug on the ear by Amaya.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I. am. Tired. Of. Listening. To. YOU. <strong>SCREAM</strong>! All you have done is scream and jump to conclusions, over and OVER!” Amaya was snarling now. Dark energy swirled around her claws, and her panting breath chilled the air. Meanwhile Luxio was nearly in tears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“s-shes right though.” Was the quiet response that got Amaya to turn around. “I didn’t kill that kadabra but this body did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>This only further pissed Amaya off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>CRYPTIC TAUROSSHIT IS HIS CHOICE RESPONSE? ARE THESE EVEN REAL POKEMON? ARRGH!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No…You’re going to tell me exactly what you mean and you’re going to tell me now. I swear, Lew. I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“F-fine. I woke up a couple days ago in this body on top of a d-dead kadabra, I think my nephew was turned into a squirtle who knows how long ago, a-and I’m human! H-Happy? I hope so!” Lew spat with as much venom in his voice as he could, though his stuttering did not help his image.. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>All of them were slack jawed. To claim to be human was something serious, outlandish, or to some even impossible. Many others had claimed to be human before with no means to prove themselves, often to be laughed off. The problem was that more than one legend had a human being the savior of the world. Humans were a childish myth to most. Amaya did not believe in them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luxio however did. She didn’t say anything though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blaziken didn’t. He burst out laughing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vaporeon wasn’t sure. She chuckled awkwardly alongside Blaziken but didn’t seem to really find anything funny.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kabutops didn’t just believe, he knew without a doubt that they were real. He had met one once. They had enough evidence to prove it too. But that was then, and this was now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-Its not funny! ITS NOT! ADAM IS DEAD! <strong>I DIED!</strong>” Lew was hysterical now. This clearly hurt to talk about. Blaziken just laughed harder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now listen here. If you are human, you have to prove it to us here an’ now you see?” Kabutops said. Lew nodded hesitantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can.” He spoke, then turned to Amaya. “Weavile? Remember when I… talked to you about that d-dewott?” he asked. Amaya nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I didn’t want to forget s-so I wrote ‘dewott’ on the back of the rock outside. Do they use English here?” <em>English. </em>That word stood out the most to Amaya. That was not the name of unown. Unown was…unown, or at least she knew it as that, as did everyone else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That proves nothing.” Vaporeon finally spoke for the first time in a while. She didn’t sound too sure of anything right then, but her answer received nods from the others anyways.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I say we turn him in. Make it so he isn’t our problem.” Blaziken spoke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>More nods. Things were settled then. Still, Amaya felt off. Nothing had truly been answered, and with no resolution came no closure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“WAIT! B-BRING ME TO WIGGLYTUFF! I CAN PROVE TO HIM THAT I’M NOT LYING!” Lewis screamed as they approached him with more rope.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was ignored.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smell of loamy soil filled his nostrils. The sound of a dragging body filled his ears. His body. Being dragged through that soil.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lewis was in a bind, literally and figuratively. He had been tied up worse than previously and was now being dragged to his impending doom. He wasn’t sure how many feathers one side of his body would have left after this either, what with all the dragging. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Think. THINK! Come on, there has to be something I can do! Don’t panic! Do! NOT! Everything will be fine! Nothing is wro- it’s not working!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The town slowly grew closer in the distance. They were likely already a quarter of the way there. He began focusing on a rock smash. The plan was to do what he had done at the river, but in reverse. Instead of a crushing grab, he would unclench as hard as possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An hour of trying later and he figured that maybe it wasn’t possible due to the nature of the move he was manipulating. It was to crush and letting go of something as quickly as possible wasn’t conducive to that. He had to fight the energy to even try and ungrasp, making it harder than if he hadn’t been using energy in the first place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were halfway to town now. Lewis started breathing faster. Then he felt <strong>it</strong>. In his hour of need <strong>it</strong> called out to him, telling him to seek <strong>it</strong>. Yet <strong>it</strong> was out of reach, somewhere in town. The call broke him out of his stupor and made him do something had had unknowingly done earlier when staring at the weavile. He focused on his mind. <em>Agility</em>. A move that increased the speed of an individual. Not truly however, instead it simply increased the speed of the mind. With speed of mind came speed and efficiency of action, leading to what looked like faster movement. His thoughts moved faster than before, seeking solutions. Next to him the blaziken walked, its bag at its waist. A plan formed faster than he thought possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tense the body. Wait for that bump ahead. Flex when you hit the bump. Knock off the bag. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All of it happened in second. Lying on the ground next to him was a bag with a wand sticking out of it. He could just reach it but had no way to grasp it. However, he only needed to touch it. With no clue on how to use it, he pushed his energy into it. An explosion centered on its end erupted into the bag, flinging the group in different directions, and scorching much of the surroundings. It was excruciating, but it got rid of enough rope for Lewis to free his beak. With astonishing efficiency due to his sped-up mind he began untying the roped on his legs first with his needle like beak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kabutops was the first to get up and react, using aqua jet to lunge forward and hit Lewis with the flat portion of one of his scythes. A muffled ‘fwap’ sounded out as his side was hit by the speeding arm blade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ignored it to the best of his ability and started running in the other direction. Ropes trailing behind him, he quickly gained speed. The chase had begun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just to be ended as swiftly as it had started by a bolt of electricity. It paralyzed his body and he collided with the ground, sliding multiple feet before coming to a stop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His vision faded to black as his consciousness left him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then he dreamed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Damaged…. Broken…. Pieces….</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span>It </span>
  </strong>
  <span>needs to be together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>R</span>
  <span>̷̑</span>
  <span>́</span>
  <span>̬̤</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span≯̟̎</span>
  <span>t</span>
  <span>̴</span>
  <span>́</span>
  <span>̳͜</span>
  <span>u</span>
  <span>̵̨̞̓͝</span>
  <span>r</span>
  <span>̴̛̎</span>
  <span>̣</span>
  <span>̹</span>
  <span>n</span>
  <span≯̬̑</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>a</span>
  <span>̴̠͙͚͎̿̂̋̂</span>
  <span>n</span>
  <span>̴̮̏̆͘</span>
  <span>d</span>
  <span>̶̳̼̆̅</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>m</span>
  <span≯̧̧̬̞̥̊̊͌̔͐̔̋̈́̅͘</span>
  <span>a</span>
  <span>̵̒</span>
  <span>̀</span>
  <span>̘̺̺͓̯̹</span>
  <span>k</span>
  <span>̷̢̰̪͚̹̺̯̦̳̄̇͛</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span>̷̿̽͛̅͝͝</span>
  <span>̉</span>
  <span>̧͇͎̙</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span>T</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̷</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̃</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̌͐</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>́</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̡̧̧̼̭̬͖̞͜</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>H</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span≯̱̭̟̲̞̳̖̯̆͘</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>I</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̵̧̨̹͓̭̟̹̰͉̜̽̇͗̏</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>N</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span≯͒̆͌͑̓̓</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̀</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̯̖̭̾</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>G</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span≯̾̈̈́̒̈͝</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>́</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̱̙̖</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>S</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̵̡̙̝̗̩̙̟͕̠͐̑̅̇̏̋̂͜</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span>W</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̶̡̥͔̰̺͚̞̫͇̳̂̎̓͋̋͠</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̶̨̲̗̙̻͙̫͙̰̻͘</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>H</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span≯̈͊͊</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̉</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̧̞̟̼̱̪͎̓͂̔͆</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̣</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̫</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̴̢̧̡̱͈̖͚̪̻̮̟̝͊ͅ</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>O</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̴͛</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̉</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>͝</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̃</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̆</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̀</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̬̠̙̩͙̠͚͐̂ͅ</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̣</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̡̧͍̹̘</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̵̛͋̂</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>́</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̨̨̨̛̎̈͌͂͜ͅ</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̣</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̜</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>L</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span≯̨͚̙̫̬̥͕͕̞̦̰̖̦̇̓͜</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̶̌</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>́</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̧̩̲̩̈́̄̏̂͂̒͋͂̎̈́̓͜</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>E</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̵͙̳̯̞̻̼͚̑</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̣</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̥͎</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span> _________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lewis woke up next to a corviknight with no idea where he was. Instead of fear he felt…peace. It didn’t make sense. <em>Nothing ever makes sense.</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please do relax. It would not be good for you to act out in this environment.” The corviknight said. The bird shuffled around, seeming to get some things in order for a moment. A map was laid out, a box was placed on top of it, and a luminous orb was placed onto a small metal stand before its glow began to dimly light the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The box called to Lewis. <strong>It </strong><em>begged</em> him to reach out. He felt a sense of longing at first before realizing that this was not okay. This was far from okay. It was incredibly unsettling and unnerving. He wanted to get away from that <em>thing</em> as soon as possible, regardless of how much something inside of him called out to <strong>it</strong>. No matter how many times <strong>it </strong>returned his call. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t know it, but he had been drugged. The only thing stopping him from lashing out was the sleep seed in his system. He felt perpetually drowsy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now I do not know why things have happened the way they have, but clearly somebody has messed with nature.” The bird said. “You may call me Mr. Corviknight. You owe a debt to me, for I have saved you from those who sought to capture you. Do you understand?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lewis nodded. It was no use arguing. Everything had gone wrong and even if he were to be used as a pawn, at least he would have backing. Nebulous and possibly unreliable backing, but backing nonetheless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. I have a vested interest in you. That being said, you must pay your debts. I will give you jobs, you will do them. You will not question the jobs. You will not question me. You will not question others on the job. Most importantly, you will come back and not run, for if you do and I catch you, you will not walk again.” Mr. Corviknight sternly said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lewis’ voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “I understand. Could you tell me how all of this happened? Where am I? What happened to the others? I just need some closure.” He croaked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are currently in Treasure town. Your kidnappers are fine, though beaten. One of them is here as we speak, though they will not be an issue. I am not ready to tell you why all of this happened, though maybe with time I will find it necessary or I will tell you as a form of reward.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, Lewis could finally rest. He was given some food in the form of bread, shown to a bed, and then told to stay put. The bed was real too, not just a pile of straw or leaves. The room he was given wasn’t bad, though slightly cramped. It had a small mirror, the already mentioned bed, a small table, and a chest for storing things which sat under the table. The door had a lock on the outside. It could be a prison if needed it seemed. It was enough to live with and was leagues above how Lewis had been living for the past week.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The only things that bothered him were his mixed feelings over who had given him the room and the lock. He had no right to complain though. With the sleep seed still in his system and him sore from the day’s events, he didn’t even need to fight off anxiety to go to sleep. He practically collapsed as soon as he settled down onto the bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was almost as if time fast forwarded. One minute he was asleep, the next he was awake and unable to remember any dreams he had. Maybe he didn’t dream at all, he wasn’t sure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sunrise arrived not with rays of light, but with the activity of the other occupants of the building. Thumping steps, conversation, the sound of doors opening and closing. These were his alarm clock. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why would anyone want to get up this early? Everything still hurts, I still feel tired, and I’m hungry again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lewis ambled up. His efforts hurt, but he needed food. Sitting and waiting for someone to arrive and give him some would drive him mad from anxiety. He was about to walk out the door when he stopped and looked at the mirror on the wall. It only really showed his face, but what it did show was ugly. His feathers were bent and scorched. Some were noticeably shorter than they should have been. This may have been his first good look at his own face, but even he knew that blood stains were not normal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was greeted with stares from various Pokémon as he traversed the building on shaky legs. It wasn’t long until a golduck directed him to a small cafeteria. There were multiple tables in the room, each occupied by different Pokémon. Only one was empty at first glance. A second pass of the eyes revealed a weavile sitting at the table. He knew that Pokémon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Guess I’m not eating</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Weavile didn’t bother following him if she had seen him when he left. He spent the next twenty minutes pacing in his small room, until a knock on the door stopped him. The same golduck from earlier gave him food with a scowl, clearly not pleased at being room service. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The majority of the day consisted of waiting. He was still recovering after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The monotony was only broken by a knock to the door late in the evening. Lewis opened the door to see a familiar weavile. His heartrate sped up at the sight of her, a slight panic building in his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-yes?” he said, hesitantly walking away from the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now that we are alone, could you please tell me more?” She spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lewis was unsure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>With an equally confused look on his face, Lewis spoke. “I-I’m sorry? I don’t understand.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked away, constantly shuffling his feet. He was trying hard to stop himself from pushing the door closed and holding it that way or running past her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Weavile sighed. “I wanted to know more about how this all happened. Mr. Corviknight knew exactly where we were. How? You also said you didn’t know him all that time ago. Why lie?” she asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know him, not until yesterday that is. I c-could answer some of your other questions if you have any t-though?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was how he found himself hesitantly detailing everything that had happened to him until now to somebody who had just yesterday betrayed and kidnapped him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>God don’t let me lose my mind.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Taskmasters Edict</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span>Chapter 8: Taskmaster’s Edict</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the previous days Lewis had quickly fallen into a routine. Wake up, go get food, get some bedrest, talk to Weavile, possibly get more food, sleep, and repeat. He had yet to truly experience just how fast Pokémon could heal with a proper diet until now. Sure, he had been hurt and healed before, and had seen just how absurd the natural medical abilities of berries could be, but this was different. He had never been hurt this <em>badly</em> before. A large bruise could take weeks for a human to heal, as could serious cuts and other wounds. Serious concussions could take up to or more than six weeks in some cases to fully heal. Lewis had mostly recovered in four days. <em>Four</em>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There must be more to healing than all of this. Yes, there are supernatural powers and berries that can heal the body at astonishing speeds, but this is natural healing, just aided by average food. Few berries, and never an entire one at once, only enough to deal with pain and stop infection it seems. Natural healing like that seems unnatural… I need to not think about this, it’s bothering me more than it should.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>A small voice at the back of his mind wondered if he would have survived the accident that brought him here if humans could heal that way or if they had access to berries. It stayed in the back of his mind, he made sure it did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last four days had been tortuous due to the monotony of his routine. Still, he resolved to do something with his time other than waste it. Maybe he was a masochist because it came in the form of training agility. The increased speed of his mind only made the days feel longer and his thoughts more anxious. His tendency to think about every little problem – regardless of whether they were even problems at all – was exacerbated by the use of agility. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had however shown improvement. He could keep agility going in a weaker form for upwards of five minutes before needing a break by now. He was unable to replicate the strength his agility had provided when he was captive but was happy he managed anything at all. Psychic energy was harder for him to use than the energy of rock smash. He reasoned it was because of types. He wasn’t psychic, of that he was sure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His musings were interrupted by a knock to his door. Expecting Weavile, he answered it. He nearly jumped when instead of Weavile he was greeted by Mr. Corviknight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is time. Your weavile friend won’t be an issue, despite her admittance to the guild. I’ve made sure of that. As for what it is time for? It is time for you to pay your dues. South of here is a town known as Reelers Wharf. You are to make a delivery. One of my compatriots will go with you, a pachirisu. This will be happening tonight. Someone will be waiting for you to arrive; they will help you remove the luggage that you are tasked with delivering. I know that you are capable of moving fast. Make use of that speed, I will know if you’re late.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that Mr. Corviknight left. His brevity was expected by Lewis, yet the shock of his arrival was still in his system when he left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This better not end badly. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Curie had fucked up. She knew that. The attack had been swift and devastating. Only the weavile really stood much of a chance, yet she was overwhelmed by numbers. Four days may have passed but she couldn’t get the loss out of her system. A criminal had escaped. Not a petty criminal either, but a murderer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The training with Weavile had still continued, but with a noticeable air of awkwardness. Weavile looked guilty. Curie wasn’t sure if it was for her helping the murderer in the beginning, losing him, or for what she had done to him despite him deserving it. It grated on her. Even if she didn’t agree with her, she didn’t want to see her upset. Curie may not have gotten along with Weavile at times, but she greatly appreciated the Pokémon putting up with her. She knew that she bothered Weavile, it would take an idiot to not see that. The fact that she had seen great improvement under her tutelage was what caused that appreciation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She could have been training someone else more agreeable than Curie and had an easier time, yet she continued training her. There was a desire to help her feel better, but Curie wasn’t confident on what was upsetting her. She may very well make things worse. Yes, Lew deserved it, how could he not? But Weavile might just not have understood that, and still might not understand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>            Curie was impulsive, but even she wasn’t willing to make that risk. Not when she had made her first friend in years. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Or at least I hope she considers me a friend. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It turns out being wealthy made others jealous. As a shinx, sometimes other kids had been rude of their own volition, but other times their parents had told them to not associate with her. Years later, she now had few friends. She could count them on one paw. Her attitude certainly didn’t help. She didn’t like saying that she was spoiled, but she may very well have been so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I need to focus on the now. If she doesn’t consider me a friend, maybe I can change that. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were only now finishing up their session. She would have some guild training later in the day, but she still had some free time. Her mind settled; she made a decision. “Would you like to go do something? Go get some food, maybe?” Curie asked. She put on her best smile too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Weavile tried not to look away. That much was obvious. She still did, however. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need to be alone for a while. Sorry.” She said, much to Curie’s disappointment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That was a bust. Guess I’ll do something else.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amaya still hadn’t gotten over it. She had spoken to Lew, and they even somewhat got along now but her feelings hadn’t changed. Amaya also wasn’t sure you could call normal discussion with an undertone of sadness getting along. Things only got worse when she realized that Mr. Corviknight had brought out the box she had delivered. Lew had hesitantly detailed how being near it felt to him. She didn’t entirely understand, she wasn’t sure she could, but she didn’t doubt him as much as she thought she would. There was no belief but there was curiosity. Enough weird stuff had been happening that she may have started becoming desensitized. Potentially malicious otherworldly forces were just icing on the cake. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Might as well visit Lew before doing some guild work. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The guild work had been surprisingly mundane most of the time. Retrieve something from here, deliver a letter to this Pokémon, and more rarely save, capture, or find the listed Pokémon. She imagined the requests would get more difficult as she established herself as someone reliable. She had only had to go into a mystery dungeon once in the four days since the incident with Lew. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she meandered her way to the <em>place</em> – she called it such due to the lack of name for Mr. Corviknight’s organization – she encountered a problem. They let her in just fine, but only with limited access. They also vehemently told her that she would be unable to see Lew, though they refused to tell her why. They had definitely been told not to inform her why. It was possible they didn’t even know why and were just being told to provide the answer of “on a need to know basis” for posturing reasons. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still with some time on her hands and unable to see Lew, she decided to get the alone time she had previously told Luxio about. Yes, she had just sought out Lew despite saying she wanted to be alone, but part of that was due to guilt and curiosity. Maybe she would catch him tomorrow; if they let her that is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>A gentle breeze was about tonight. It was enough to slightly chill those without the means or natural features to prevent such a thing. The stars were out, such a wonderous sight. For Lewis they were nothing but foreboding. They were a reminder of what he was about to do. He had no clue what he would be delivering, but it couldn’t have been anything good. The slums of Treasure town were situated in the southeast portion of town and reached the edge of town. He was led through alleys in the dark of the night by the pachirisu that Mr. Corviknight had mentioned that morning. The Pokémon didn’t speak much but was demanding when he did. Blunt, rude, snappy. Those were the qualities any words out of Pachirisu’s mouth contained in spades.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lewis was quickly shut up whenever he spoke and reprimanded when he started drifting off in thought. He was required to pay complete attention. If he wasn’t so nervous, he would have had trouble doing so. Him managing to lose his concentration on the task at hand was only earlier possible due to the slamming of a door followed by some yelling. Finally they arrived.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Those are saddlebags. Now this is humiliating as well as terrifying.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sight of a machamp holding two large saddlebags greeted him by a tree on the outskirts of town. Told to hold still, they were placed upon him. They must have weighed eighty or so pounds, though the weight wasn’t a huge deal to Lewis. The pachirisu climbed onto his back and told him to head south and to remain off the road. He wanted to look in the bags but knew that doing so would swiftly cause trouble. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Make this quick and we can both go home, understand?” the pachirisu grumpily said. Lewis just nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The town wasn’t far. The journey should have been quick. Three quarters of the way there they encountered trouble. A feral spearow dived at them, its beak tearing one of the bags. The pachirisu shocked it so badly that it was smoking. Nothing ended up falling out of the bag, so they just kept going. Once away from the smell of smoking feathers, Lewis started smelling something else. Sickly sweet and musty. He was carrying something that smelled. What followed was the slow realization that he was carrying enough drugs to weigh over half his body weight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t a very small Pokémon either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they finally reached town the pachirisu guided him to the east, near a gnarled tree. A quilava was waiting there, as well as a rhydon. The rhydon took the saddlebags off him and replaced them with a much smaller bag that rang with the sound of clattering metal. Coins. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we be expecting more any time soon?” the quilava asked. The pachirisu scowled at that. Lewis did not want an argument to start but anything he would say could cost him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll get more when you get more and not a second sooner.” Pachirisu spoke. “You should be happy we had someone on hand to make such a large delivery at all. Who are you to ask for more when you just got so much?” the squirrel Pokémon spat.  Both the quilava and the ryhdon frowned at that but said nothing else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The trip back was uneventful, besides the avoidance of some travelers. Their arrival was met by the machamp as well as the golduck from days ago. The night was still young, so when they made it back Lewis was just left to stew over what he had just done. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He did not sleep that night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Weavile didn’t visit in the morning. The stress just built.   The guilt built too. He completely zoned out when Mr. Corviknight came to see him. Something about a job well done. Everything else went in one ear and out the other.  His thoughts weren’t wandering, that was not why he had zoned out. His thoughts were actually very focused, just on one thing. The drugs. He was confident they were drugs, little else made sense. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>By evening he was exhausted. Only his fatigue made it possible to sleep. He dreamed of that sickening smell and the visage of the town slowly becoming more decrepit. His sleep was interrupted by these nightmares more than once. Sometimes the dewott that he had killed was there too. Its head wasn’t always there, while sometimes it was all that remained as the town fell to ruin. The object showed itself as well. <strong>It</strong>. <strong>It</strong> offered solace, a claim that all would remain well if only he sought <strong>it</strong>. He almost considered it too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was woken up by loud banging on his door. Turns out he had been screaming in his sleep. The golduck – who he was beginning to suspect had specifically been assigned to him – told him not so kindly to be quiet. In more accurate words, “Shut the fuck up”. He wouldn’t be making any friends here. Weavile didn’t count, he hadn’t met her here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Other than the crisis he was still going through and his dread inducing dreams his day was completely normal. If you count being locked up in a criminal hideout normal. At least the food was passable and constant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I need something more. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Today was one of those days. The kind of day where you just sit and mope. Victoria was living up to that, slouching over with her head resting on a table at Spinda’s. Tyranitar looked on with concern. Victoria didn’t want pity; she just wanted a break. The atmosphere of Spinda’s café was peaceful during the mornings. Sooner or later, that would change, but not soon enough to concern her. She would go somewhere else when that happened. Then someone else arrived. The luxio that sat at her table removed that peace. She wanted to leave now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please wait.” Luxio asked. Hesitantly Victoria sat back down. Neither of them spoke for some time. The stress settled down, both of them becoming less down. Victoria actually picked her head off the table, much to her own surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just needed someone to sit with. We don’t need to talk or anything. Its just hard to go back to being alone when for the first time in ages you did something with someone. Not just posturing or chatter, but actual cooperation.” Luxio said. She looked resigned to Victoria. As if she had realized that her chance was effectively lost. Victoria simply nodded in agreement. She understood, having been homeless once upon a time with no one to rely on. It may have not been the same but being alone came in different forms and always had the same constant, the lack of others.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>An hour of sipping coffee passed by, then another. When a musician finally started playing music, they both got up and left. They meandered they around and found themselves at Sharpedo bluff of all places. Victoria had heard it had once been a base of operations for team Pokepals of all people. Nowadays the place was a tourist spot and hangout place, with various Pokémon visiting due to the stories told in which it made an appearance or just because the view was great.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>What wasn’t old was the metal door in the mouth of the bluff. It wasn’t new per say, but there were still plenty of Pokémon around that remembered when it hadn’t been there. It could be found at the back of the mouth. Over the years many Pokémon had tried to break into it, though none had succeeded. There were blast marks and ash, upturned stones, and decayed plants surrounding the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some had tried digging under or around, though they had only found more walls. Ghost Pokémon had attempted to go through the walls just to be stopped, though no one knew why. Psychics had tried teleporting inside, just to fail. More than one luxray had attempted to look through the walls, though they were met with a second layer. Echolocation, seismic waves, magma, blast wands, magnagates, everything had failed. Naturally conspiracy theories started propping up. Everything from the lair of Arceus, a hidden den of shadow Pokémon, and even someone attempting to make a god but failing were all rumored to be what the door contained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Funnily enough, a third face showed itself to them. Weavile was sitting near the mouth, peering out. She looked at them as they entered but her eyes did not linger. She continued gazing at the sea. All of them did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I might do something stupid today. Maybe tomorrow, or in a number of days, but it will still be incredibly stupid. I might just die afterwards.” Weavile said. Victoria winced at that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why so soon?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you can’t just say that and not tell us what you’re going to be doing?!” Luxio said, showing more outward reaction than both Victoria and the weavile. Victoria was annoyed by her outburst, but made no comment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Couldn’t she read the mood?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what if telling you could cause me to fail? What if it implicates you somehow or what if someone is listening? No. I won’t tell you because it would hurt all of us.” Weavile spoke. She was vehement in her decision. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever you’re doing, you’re taking me with you.” Luxio said. “I don’t need to know what it is that you’re doing, but I have to be able to help somehow. You just need to let me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Weavile seemed like she was about to start arguing as she scowled but didn’t end up saying anything. She looked as if in thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would happily help, though if you don’t need my help I would understand. Maybe something can go right for once.” Victoria added. She couldn’t believe she had said that. What happened to being carefree? She may have been upset but she wasn’t one to just jump at nothing…okay, maybe she was, but this was different! </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks… I guess you’re right. Meet me at.. hmm… the guilds common room tomorrow morning, I guess. That should be an okay time and place. Maybe things can go right for once, just as you said. Maybe… Just maybe.” Weavile said. She had a look of acceptance on her face. The kind when you know that what you were about to do just had to be done, and it would almost certainly hurt somehow. Maybe not just then, maybe not any time soon, maybe years from now, but it would hurt eventually if not immediately. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Victoria hated that look. It was a look she had seen only once, back when she still had her father. That was the look that was on his face when she saw him for the last time. She still didn’t know what had happened to him. More than likely he was dead, though she hoped that wasn’t the case. That he would come find her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now all she had to do was wait. Preparation for whatever Weavile had planned wouldn’t take long, even if she had no clue what they would be doing. Just grab some berries, a scarf, maybe a wand and some seeds, and that was that. The only thing left to do was figure out how to spend the rest of the day not moping. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Easier said than done. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Today was the day. Standing on one of her balconies at home, Amaya contemplated what to do. She had two options available to her. One was much less likely to work and wouldn’t put her in immediate danger and the other may very well get her killed on the spot. Attempt to sneak, bribe, or fool her way into a meeting with the guildmaster, or attack Mr. Corviknight’s compound. One was difficult because of the amount of Pokémon that needed to be circumvented and the other was difficult for much more obvious reasons.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe… no. I need to do something, and soon. But I need to think. If only I had more time.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A third option presented itself. It may have been mind bogglingly stupid and incredibly ballsy, but it was definitely an option. It also relied on luck. What if she simply went up to Mr. Corviknights hideout and started yelling that Lew had an immensely high bounty? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Knowing the kinds of Pokémon there, it wouldn’t take long for fighting to break out if they weren’t reigned in. The issue was that Lew could be lost, she could still die, and with Mr. Corviknight blackmailing her it was possible everything she had worked for would be lost even if everything went smoothly. The law was very unfair in its punishments. She may lose her home depending on the severity of what gets spread and she would definitely lose her guild membership over anything not a petty crime. Enough had been done by her that it wouldn’t be hard to implicate her. Especially when the one telling the law what you did was the one who paid you to do those things to begin with and undoubtedly kept some form of records.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why not some odd combination of the three? Fuck it. When all else fails be unpredictable. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her meeting with her two coconspirators – disregarding how they would likely balk at her plan and knew nothing about it – went as well as expected. Few words were exchanged between them, other than passing hellos. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was debating on asking Sec- I mean Kabutops and Blaziken for help but Kabutops would probably end up stopping me from coming and Blaziken can’t keep his mouth shut when its most needed.” Vaporeon said. Amaya agreed, the blaziken was very… she wasn’t sure what to actually call him. Certainly not ideal for what they were about to do though. The kabutops seemed wise but too cautious for what was about to happen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Follow me, be ready to distract if needed. Avoid fighting though.” Amaya said as she began moving to her destination. The lower levels of the guild. Her goal was the guildmasters office. She hardly expected to make it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Initially the two following her seemed indifferent, but as they went lower and lower into the compound, they quickly realized that whatever was about to happen involved the higher ups. Definitely without approval as well. As they reached a guard checkpoint Amaya prepared to deceive.   The guard stationed at the entryway to the more restricted areas hadn’t seen them yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Follow me, do not fight unless you need to, and don’t doubt a single thing I say.” Amaya demanded. There were a couple tricks to getting into places you didn’t belong. This was one she hated, and it very much depended on how experienced or paranoid who you were tricking was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sprinted. Yes, sprinted. Straight towards the guard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“HURRY, WE NEED TO GET THIS TO THE GUILDMASTER NOW!” She yelled, looking as panicked as possible. Vaporeon caught on right away while Luxio took a moment. They both tried their hardest to look in a hurry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“STOP! S-STOP RIGHT THERE!” The marowak guard demanded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Definitely new. He stuttered, ha. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“<strong>GET OUT OF THE WAY</strong>! WE HAVE TO SEE THE GUILDMASTER RIGHT NOW! ITS ABOUT THE EXPEDITION SOCIETY OFFICIAL THAT VISITED LAST WEEK! THEY HAVE BEEN FOUND DEAD!” Amaya shouted. A bold lie, but one that created a situation where the guard would be pressured to listen. Nobody new on the job would take the risk of being wrong in that kind of situation. They very quickly crossed the distance between them and the guard as the poor marowak was trying to decide what to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>They went uncontested. The marowak didn’t even try to stop them, only sputtering about papers and appointments. Amaya couldn’t help but smile when out of sight. Her companions were less amused than her though. She received a look of uncertainty but understanding from Vaporeon, and a scowl from Luxio. Was that awe as well? Didn’t matter, she had more important things to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The key to going places you don’t belong is to look like you belong. Be completely confident. Act out and you will look out, got it?” Amaya explained. Both nodded. Thus, she began the walk of professional liars, the walk of “I have places to be and I’m very important so move now” that all thieves learn at some point. Those that don’t are the ones that aren’t thieves, not anymore anyway. They’re inmates. Amaya was no inmate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The many that they encountered simply let them past. This was the easy part, Amaya knew. The hard part came when you came across <em>that one person</em>. Without prior experience you wouldn’t know them. There was usually at least one person that was the antithesis to plans such as this. Maybe they were more talkative than others and started asking questions, but more commonly they were the one in charge. Sometimes it was just somebody of little importance who was just very perceptive. Regardless, they would at some point come across someone who would muck things up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They key to success was not avoidance, that would make them more suspicious. Never double back if you see someone, not unless you can convince them that you’re looking for someone to begin with and was just taking a peek. No, you had to be brief, polite, and in a hurry. Ideally, they wouldn’t stop you, and if they did you would provide vague but plausible excuses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>This person was eventually encountered. This time it was in the form of <em>Wigglytuff. </em>Amaya was screwed. The old pink guildmaster was visiting. He may have been retired but he still cared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuuuuck. Why does it have to be the guilds grandfather? He’s practically senile. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who might you be?” Wigglytuff said with a smile. Ignoring him would be a poor decision. <em>Nobody</em> ignored him. Thankfully he quickly focused on Luxio.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Curie dear, is that you? It is! So lovely to see you! How has your grandfather been?” Wigglytuff said. Amaya was confused until she realized who he was talking to. Luxio’s name was Curie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>”And who are your friendly friends?” He cheerfully said. Somehow the years had not changed him very much. He was practically <em>ancient</em> at this point, but he just kept going. Him and a couple others were like that. Timeless in a way. If Amaya was to be honest, she would say it scared her a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Curie was promptly left behind to stall Wigglytuff. The electric cat looked incredibly embarrassed to be doted on. The cosmic irony of the attention seeking cat shying away from what was essentially a world-famous individual was not missed by her. Amaya almost teared up as she tried to hold in her laughter. It was hard to be serious when things like that happened. She and Vaporeon shared a glance, a look of mirth on Vaporeon’s face making itself known to Amaya. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>They eventually encountered a second obstacle. A no nonsense growlithe who very clearly was in a bad mood. She hounded them and blocked their path, demanding of all things, <em>papers</em>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give them. Now. If you’re here you need a reason, and I don’t care how many have checked.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If I never have to see another piece of paperwork after this, I will die happy.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was a situation that they likely wouldn’t get out of. A back and forth with a heated – <em>why do I accidently make such terrible puns? Hounded? Heated? – </em>growlithe would go nowhere. She was quickly proven right when nothing they said worked. Amaya’s gesturing got the point across soon enough though. The point being a water gun to the face. Vaporeon was left behind to soak the grumpy dog while Amaya went for broke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hall after hall. Door after door. Most were the same other than some runes marking what the room was for or whose office it was. Some were doors leading to private areas for highly established teams. Salvation eventually came into sight in the form of a dark wooden door with intricate carvings of various Pokémon. The runes told her just whose office it was. The guildmaster’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pushed it open to find a stark white meowstic.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Special chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hello! This chapter will not be the same length as others. I dont know if I will do another chapter like this, but I'm labeling this special chapter 1 in the event that I write another. I also don't know if the length will be just as short if I write another.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now secondly, I have no beta readers, and I am looking for some. If you want to or are willing to be a beta reader, leave a comment with your discord tag. Or if you already know my discord account, dm me. (this is for those in a writers discord I post updates in, disregard the dm part if you arnt there)<br/>I would prefer if you have Microsoft word, but its not a requirement.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The night sky seemed I finite in its splendor, such were the number of stars out. Familiar but at the same time not. Remnants of a life past tickled at the back of his mind because of those stars.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They weren’t the same, his thoughts said. He knew two sets of stars, two separate night skies. The stars he gazed at were the second of the two. The first had come from his human life as a Pokémon trainer. Even still, there was something else there. At first there had been doubt over the thoughts, but they had slowly become more than they had started as. There was something missing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you ever wonder what could have been?” Adam asked his partner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wonder so often. I may have my memories back but there are times where I feel like I should recognize something or know something and I don’t. Like what I know is fake.” He said while turning to the luxray sitting next to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The stars. Why couldn’t he help but recall constellations that didn’t exist in either of his lives.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The luxray wasn’t sure how to respond, so he didn’t. Adam needed to talk, this he knew. He was there to listen, no matter what. Through thick and thin he had been there. When they had been thrown into the future. When the world seemed doomed. When Palkia was enraged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you ever heard of the constellation known as the “big dipper”?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was resignation on Adam’s face. A name. He had remembered a name for something he had never seen. And it was oh so fitting in his mind’s eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The luxray leaned onto his friend. The blastoise looked exhausted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have this feeling that I should miss them. Not the constellation, no, but certain humans. I don’t know their names. Why? It’s just faces. I remember everyone from when I was a human, so why are there no names?” Adam shivered. “And they’re important. Very. So much so that the feelings I felt towards those I knew when I was a trainer feel fake. Like a mockery.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment of silence passed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s something there. Everyone who has tried has failed to crack it open. No psychic has succeeded. Even Mewtwo... Even. Mewtwo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on Adam, you can’t be suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.” The luxray said. This wasn’t the first time Adam had said things of this vein. They hardly felt like friends anymore, arguing often. Luxray awaited Adam’s response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adam just stared. And stared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>And stared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>And stared.</span>
</p>
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</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>And stared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The gods aren’t perfect you know?” He finally said, slightly trembling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luxray knew he should have stayed to comfort him. Still, after all he had done and seen, he couldn’t handle the implications if what Adam was suggesting was true. He wasn’t having this argument again. Comforting Adam would be lying to him and to himself. Both of them knew that. So, he walked away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luxaray later found the scarf that he had gifted Adam after they had saved the world, that Adam had worn every day for decades since then. Written in unnown next to it was “I can’t remember my last name.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luxray didn’t know what a last name was, but he knew that names were important. Nobody forgets their own name, not on purpose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adam didn’t show up the next day, nor the day after.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The days stacked up. Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months. Years had passed. It was as if Adam had faded to dust and was swept away by the wind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, he received a letter. Three years without a single sign of Adam.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I don’t know if I will ever see you again. In the time that has passed, more and more has come back. Little is complete, but I have a something. A face, I remembered a title for it. Uncle. Burn this after reading it. Still, I think they know already. I refuse to play their games anymore. I know I have no right to ask, but I have a final request. If you find another human, don’t let history repeat itself. Help them break fate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-Adam”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. A Plan for Progress</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>4/18/21 notice!<br/>Some of you may be asking why this story has not been updated in just about a month when before it was updating consistently!<br/>Well, I'm writing this to answer that! <br/>The easy answer is to say school. The semester is nearing its end and papers have been due. Ive been busy.<br/>The long answer is a bit more complicated. To put it simply, I tend to only write when I feel like writing, and forcing myself to write will cause myself to not want to write in the future. Sure, I'll finish an update sooner, but the quality of that update as well as my willingness and desire to write more will both suffer. Combine this with occasional procrastination and then add the impending end of a semester and all that that brings and you have a lack of progress. This does not mean I am not working on the next update. Its actually about halfway done! Still I dont know when it will be finished.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span>Chapter 9: A Plan for Progress. </span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Psychics, urgh. Why must the guildmaster be a psychic?</span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
 </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The office was covered with different objects. Paintings, souvenirs, artifacts, old maps; all of these were present in some form and varying amounts. Some were more faded than others and others looked recent. The collection had built over the years, it seemed. The meowstic looked tired but eager. Amaya could only guess as to why. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmmmm.” The guildmaster intoned, studying Amaya. “You don’t have an appointment… Come to kill me? No… Our pink friend didn’t think so.” She spoke. It took Amaya a second to realize that Meowstic was referring to the previous guildmaster. “He’s not as senile as most think. Truthfully, he’s not senile at all.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amaya was not expecting that.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It is hard to read minds you know. I think he does it on purpose, letting me get access. He’s been around long enough to know how to stop it. The mind does stops casual reading on its own somewhat, yet he somehow makes it easier. It goes from a lesson in endurance to a walk in the park. Doesn’t let me see anything that truly matters though, he cordons that stuff off. No clue how he does it, and he denies that he even does so.” The meowstic rambled. “Plus, he knew one of your coconspirators, so much so that he knew their name! I was about ready to off both of your partners and call some guards for you until that happened. You practically owe him your life!” she spoke with a smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>This did not ease Amaya’s stress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be honest with you and say I expected that I would have to plead for you to listen.” Amaya said. <em>Maybe Vaporeon was right, things might just go well for once</em>… <em>Don’t get ahead of yourself, this is only the beginning.</em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A filing cabinet opened off to the left of the desk. Out floated out a sheet of paper which then settled onto the desk, right in front of the guildmaster. She didn’t even bother closing the cabinet after.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So why exactly do you need to see me so desperately? Or should we wait for your companions to arrive?” the cat asked. There was an air of nonchalance about the guildmaster.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s about the bird, the one with the huge bounty.” Amaya said. Meowstic didn’t so much as flinch when she mentioned Lew. <em>Odd. You would think such a huge bounty would warrant more personal attention.</em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I see. Hmmm… The vaporeon told you? She wasn’t supposed to say anything. Or was it someone else?” Meowstic queried. Amaya was more nervous than she thought she would be. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Its not feral, and I know where it is.” Amaya said. Meowstic’s demeanor went from lax and in control to aggressive in an instant. <em>Uh oh- SHIT!</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the corner of the room flew chains. Amaya may him been immune to psychic influence of any sort, but nothing stopped her from being wrapped in chains. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Talks? Not feral? What do you mean?” Meowstic said, calm as ever while looking anything but. Amaya gulped. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean exactly what I said! It claims its human!” Amaya sputtered as the chains tightened. Amaya gasped as it gradually got worse.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The guildmaster was not happy. Amaya had never heard someone sound so calm while being so <em>threatening</em>. Not even Mr. Corviknight. “I hate games… Is this one to you?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“N-Ugh-No. I’m being serious! Ask the others who came with me!” At that the chains stopped tightening. Respite, for now, as little of an assurance that was to Amaya.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“If they tell me otherwise, I’ll just break your arms before I throw you in a cell. Nobody will question if I did it in self-defense or not.” Amaya had hardly ever felt cold before, being an ice type. She felt cold now. Cold to her very bones.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Waiting with the tension in the air only heightened her stress. It was unnerving knowing the head of such a huge organization was so…. <em>Cruel? No. This is… somewhat justified. No nonsense to a lethal degree? A bit wordy but that makes more sense… Get me out of here.</em></span>
</p><p>
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</p><p>
  <span>The sound of a babbling Wigglytuff reached her ears. <em>Great.</em> Curie had arrived with the walking bag of times long passed. Amaya would never get over his age. She shuddered at the thought of becoming that old herself.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Please <em>stop</em> Wiggly! It’s embarrassing!” Amaya heard Curie whine. If she wasn’t held on threat of snapped limbs she would have laughed. Instead, she sighed in relief. She had no clue how patient the guildmaster was, and wasn’t sure what waiting for much longer would result in.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The door was knocked on in an odd pattern without reason, probably just because of how odd Wigglytuff was, Amaya mused. Meowstic briefly told them to enter, after which the door swung open. Curie frowned at Amaya, seeing her in chains. Behind Curie was Wigglytuff. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“U-uh. Um. Is every-“ Curie began nervously, looking back and forth between Weavile and Meowstic repeatedly. Her stuttering was cut off by Meowstic who answered her question before she finished.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Sit down.” The psychic said. Curie was fidgeting and couldn’t stay still. Wigglytuff just stared. Amaya shivered at how soulless his eyes looked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luxio dear, I’ve got a job for you. You are going to tell me a story!” Meowstic said with faux cheer. Curie swallowed. “So, tell me, have you met any strange Pokémon recently?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Curie started responding more than once, each time stopping herself before she could say anything. Meowstic was grinning all the while.</span>
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</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes, I have.” Curie spoke. “He was a tall orange bird.” Curie couldn’t bring herself to look at Amaya, believing that she was betraying her weavile friend. What she didn’t know was that she was saving Amaya from a cruel fate. Without Curie corroborating her story she would be in deep trouble. She would also be in a cell just as deep. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“And tell me, did this Pokémon say anything noteworthy to you?” Meowstic asked. Again, Curie hesitated. This time Meowstic wasn’t grinning. To Amaya she seemed to be getting impatient. The entire time this had been happening Wigglytuff hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t even moved. <em>Why does he have to be so creepy? </em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, he did talk about…” Curie began. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so, the questioning started. <em>I can’t help but wonder how many hours I’ll have to stay in these chains. Never thought I would be stuck in a room with a socially awkward cat, menacing guildmaster, and Mr. Thousand-yard stare. Also, where is vaporeon?</em></span>
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</p><p>
  <span>______________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Take a look at the lawman, Beating up the wrong guy! Oh man, wonder if he’ll ever know, He’s in the best selli-“<br/>
 <br/>
“SHUT! THE FUCK! <strong>UP</strong>!” shouted the voice of the ever-present golduck. Lewis was incredibly bored. He wouldn’t have resorted to singing if he wasn’t. He didn’t even care who heard him at this point, he just needed to do something entertaining, or he would break. His body had an aversion to being still for so long, and for being in such an enclosed space for days. It turns out a body designed for running has a mind that wants to run. Yes, it was his mind, but the brain wasn’t him, it was just a vessel. A vessel with quirks and instincts as he had already found out. Anxiety combined with a body that had the urge to do something made an amazing tag team. He hated it. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“NO! YOU CAN STOP ME FROM LEAVING BUT YOU CAN’T STOP ME FROM SINGING!” Lewis yelled in response. He didn’t actually continue but he was in a rebellious mood, having been on what was effectively house arrest for the past two days. Turns out the golduck <em>actually had a sense of humor </em>as Lewis heard him chuckle outside the door from his response. They had bickered before, and at first, he was positively sure that the Pokémon hated him, but they had established a mutual understanding. Both of them were bored. It turns out Golduck loved music; he had indirectly told Lewis so while implying he still had to do his job. He said all of this rudely, but with a couple mumbled statements along the lines of “even if music is amazing” and “regardless of the rest of the Pokémon not being able to remember a song if it broke their skull.” Once late at night the Pokémon had even casually asked where he had learned so many songs, though Lewis lied through his tee – <em>beak, Lewis. Beak. – </em>and had said that he had learned them from his parents. It wasn’t entirely false, as he had discovered many songs from them playing over the radio during car drives when he was younger. To some extent his parents were responsible for it. If only he had access to music in any form. <em>Hell, ill take vinyl at this point, even if its outdated. The only instrument I’ve heard so far is a flute. Why does the golduck have to own a flute instead of something more lively sounding?</em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He had limited access to the “facility”. <em>If you can even call it that. </em>He couldn’t leave the second story, where his room resided. Apparently, something had happened in the last day, as he wasn’t allowed near any windows anymore. Not that he had been allowed near them to begin with, but now he couldn’t go near them <em>even at night</em>. That’s what he had been told by his ever-present golduck guardian. <em>They’re hiding me. No other explanation makes sense. </em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He suspected Weavile at first but very quickly ruled that possibility out. Not completely, mind you, though he was more confident someone else had said something. Supposedly, only a few teams knew about his bounty, so him being wanted wasn’t public knowledge. <em>The guild probably doesn’t want a mass exodus of over-their-head beginner teams. </em>Lewis mused.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was late and he was sitting on his bed. He couldn’t really lie down easily, his body made it uncomfortable as well, but he made do. Then he felt a buzzing in the back of his head. He had no clue what it was, but his body seemingly did. The sheer unadulterated panic he felt at that moment couldn’t be healthy. Dread, chills, adrenaline, fear. He burst out of the door into the hallway, startling Golduck.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” The duck said. Then he noticed the animal look in Lewis’ eyes. “You good?” he queried but received no response other than some half sputtered words. “Just go back in your room.” All that happened was the continued swiveling of Lewis’ head and shivering body. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Shouts sounded from downstairs, two Pokémon attempting to get up the stairs. An arbok and a breloom. The arbok and the breloom began moving swiftly down the hall towards Lewis when they made it to the top. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is going on?!” Golduck harshly demanded. He was ignored as both Pokémon attempted to get to a panicking Lewis, only to be soaked and pushed back by an aqua tail. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Give us the bird!” the breloom spat. “Yeah, hand him over!” the arbok unnecessarily added. Both of them started up their attempts to get around Golduck again, with little success. More sounds echoed from downstairs, fighting breaking out. Hell had been let loose. The hectic environment, the buzz in the back of his mind, and his latent anxiety all collaborated to create the perfect storm. Lewis started running, bowling through all three of the Pokémon in front of him. The arbok attempted to wind around him, only to nearly lose an eye by peck. The nearest window was down the hall and to the left. Slamming doors, shouts, and groans of pain greeted him once he finally made it there, which he ignored. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The area around the building had seemingly been cleared. If there were any observers, they were on the fringes of what was occurring. Lewis landed on the ground next to multiple groaning or unconscious Pokémon. His addled mind paid no attention to them, instead driving him to run <em>run <strong>run</strong></em>! In the corner of his eye, he saw a stark white cat. He knew not why but he felt immense fear upon seeing it. He was not present of mind enough to draw any conclusions and the sight of the Pokémon only pushed rationality further into the back of his mind. The buzzing in his mind increased. His speed increased, buildings beginning to blur around him. Eventually he left the cleared area and started encountering other Pokémon, all of whom jumped out of the way or were darted around. The buzzing was lessening. The edge of town arrived in sight. Freedom. His mind said go to the mountains. His body complied. East, he went.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>______________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Holda was having a simultaneously shit and fantastic day. It started out fine. Perfectly normal even. Then three Pokémon had decided to pay her office a visit. <em>Without asking. </em>Surprisingly, they had an actual good reason for attempting so. That’s when her day got good, as rarely did such disturbances go well. A lead on a huge bounty out of the blue was a good sign. Then she found out that what the weavile wanted her help with would be enough to jail Mr. Corviknight, which made her day fantastic. Lastly, she was told the bird was <em>human</em>, which was horrifying if it was true. Not that she had anything against humans, mind you. One of her best friends was one. <em>How I miss serene village sometimes. </em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Preparations began. A plan was put into place. She could make it work; she was sure. More ludicrous things had happened in the past, some of which she had had a hand in. The area surrounding the wretched bird’s compound was cleared. Ambushes were set. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything is ready, guildmaster.” A froakie said. She turned to the weavile. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Go. And make sure to be loud.” She said. The weavile proceeded, leisurely walking down the street. She passed an alleyway where some Pokémon had been knocked out. They had noticed the area being cleared, and them spilling the beans so early wouldn’t be good. Then she started shouting, the weavile smugly talking about the bounty the bird had. The results were as expected. She felt surprise from many of the Pokémon in the building and was waiting for that feeling of greed. The feeling of noticing an opportunity that could change your life. Emotions gradually escalated; she could feel the base thoughts of the building’s inhabitants. They were mostly felt as emotions, though it sometimes took some work to understand them as everyone felt something different over certain things. Some feel prideful when they are greedy. Others get nervous, thinking about how they may get caught. Still, the building was rife with three things. Greed, disbelief, and anger. The noises within the building got progressively louder until finally there was the sound of an explosion, likely a fire type. She started searching for her target’s mind. Eventually she brushed across something odd. It was a very poorly defended mind, likely a fighting type. Merely brushing over it caused the thoughts she felt to jump towards panic. She pushed. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was disorientating. There was a clear feral mind there, yet there was a second mind as well. It was as if someone had taken a feral and poured paint over its personality. Sure, it looks sapient, but it certainly wasn’t. At the same time, it ran deeper than that. The more rational mind seemed to recede, panic escalating. She briefly made it deeper, and what she saw hurt. The surface had been confusing, but whatever she was feeling now was nauseating and hard to parse. Massive amounts of panic, anxiety, all mixed in with a subconcious mind that constantly made connections that a feral ordinarily wouldn’t. Meanwhile the feral mind was doing the same, though to a simpler degree. It made understanding why something was thought difficult, as the thoughts melded until understanding what each one was and where it came from became impossible. Even worse was that the thoughts started to become accelerated, courtesy of some psychic move. She quickly put an end to that, but not before the bird had picked up an immense amount of speed in a short amount of time. East it went, much to her disappointment. She had had enough of mountains for a lifetime. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Things were beginning to settle down now. There was still some fighting happening, though the guild members she had picked out for the assault on the place were all experienced in fighting both civil and feral mons. Multiple Pokémon got away, including the other damned bird. <em>Every time. </em></span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, she rounded up all the Pokémon she wanted to talk to. Multiple criminals and the three who had provided the very reason she was here in the first place. None of the criminals talked, as expected. They would only implicate themselves and make Mr. Corviknight mad. For once that surprisingly changed when she happened upon one criminal. A golduck spoke up when questioned. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, he wasn’t feral.” He spoke. Holda felt multiple emotions then. A little fear, some relief, and a smidge of dread. She hardly felt dread anymore. <em>Things have seriously gotten out of hand, haven’t they?</em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>______________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Iron. Iron tasted odd when you thought about it. Nothing else really tasted remotely like it. It was hard to describe the taste of iron. The taste of blood. That just made it all the more unsettling when Lewis finally regained his senses.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What happened? </span>
  </em>
  <span><br/>
 <br/>
At his feet. Again. A corpse. The horror overshadowed the irony. It had <em>bites</em> taken out of it. The poor gible was hardly recognizable. He shivered. He felt full in the stomach. Vomiting with a long neck was not a pleasant process. He would never be confident that all of it left him. The worst part was that it <em>tasted good</em> to him. His mouth still tasted blood, but for some reason he couldn’t explain, it was not disgusting. Unnerved didn’t even begin to describe how he felt. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>While it took a moment to get his bearings – especially with a body next to him – he eventually took the time to find out just where he was. Nowhere. He had no idea where he was at all. <em>Fuck.</em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His surroundings were rocky. Extremely so. Boulders spread about, somewhat large rock walls, ever present wind. There was little plant life in most areas, all of consigned to areas where there were patches of dirt, few that there were. The terrain was not consistent in height, with small increases here or there, sometimes as a result of fallen rocks and sometimes not. Some were much higher, and all varied in how steep they were. Walking everywhere was a fool’s dream; the terrain too rough for that. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The sun baked the rocks around him, the air shimmering with the heat. The wind helped deal with the issue and although he couldn’t see off of the mountain he was on, he could to his surprise almost judge his height just by how thin or cold the air was. It wasn’t very thin, but he was high enough to feel it. <em>Some odd quirk of biology. </em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The ever-present wind served as a reminder of the mess next to him, forcing the smell of iron into his face. Blood. <em>I need to find water or else I’m going to freak out. I need to get this blood off me and out of my mo-beak… </em></span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His search for water ended as it started. Shorty after leaving the little ravine he had regained his sense of self in he happened upon the rock face he stared at now. There was no distinct way out of the place he was in; he had fallen – or jumped – in when he was less than civilized. This didn’t bother him at first, until he realized that past every minor increase in elevation was a major one. He would have to climb or jump a minimum of fifteen feet just to get out of the place. Climbing that may have been easy if he had hands, but <em>he didn’t</em>. Or at least he thought it would be hard. It turns out having stupidly strong legs and grip made scaling a rock wall with two limbs a breeze. His first couple attempts had resulted in him falling on the ground but eventually he found himself completely horizontal. <em>This is disorientating. </em><br/>
His talons had enough strength to hold the rest of his body alone. <em>Its also absurd. </em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Over ten minutes he got the hang of it, partially because the other aspect of his mind helped. He was wary of heights in his past life. Not scared, just wary. Contrary to that, he felt nothing when he scaled fifteen feet with his body parallel to the ground. <em>I’m beginning to feel like this body may have been meant for hills or mountains. </em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His beliefs were set on the backburner when at the top of his climb there sat an even higher climb. The area was actually pretty large, large enough that he hadn’t seen the other wall from below. It was like a small platform in a craggy hell. Boulders spread out in the area, and more importantly, he heard the sound of water and made a mad dash towards it. Never mind that he tripped because of his haste, he <em>had</em> to get rid of the blood. There was a stream that trickled out from between some boulders before disappearing a couple meters away between some more boulders. Not enough to wash in but enough to wash out his mouth. Even with a lack of depth he still tried to wash his body, eventually resorting to filling his beak with water to dump on his body. His beak was a tad too thin to contain much water but thirty minutes later he was somewhat cleaner. The entire time he kept thinking back on the body. <em>I need to get over it. It wasn’t me; it wasn’t my fault.</em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Nowhere close to better, he examined the clearing a second time. Some bushes sat in the middle with some grass on a patch of dirt. Further past that was a small cave with scales littering the ground near it. He chocked at the sight. <em>The poor gible didn’t deserve it. Wish I could bury it. No way I can get it out of that pit.</em><br/>
 Lewis gagged at the thought of merely returning to the gruesome site.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><span>While he had found a place to stay the night – disregarding how upsetting the place was to him – he was still determined to find out where he was. The tedium of this task was not rewarding in the slightest. Everywhere he looked he found dead ends. His attempts to climb the higher walls failed; he was not skilled enough. </span><em>But what if I jump?</em><br/>
 <br/>
He expected nothing to come from it, but he tried anyway. <em>As if I’ll jump thirty fe- </em>His thoughts ended as his pushed off the ground with tensed muscles, going <em>much</em> higher than he thought he would. <em>UH OH</em>.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He scrambled for purchase on the wall next to him, but no footholds were to be found. The landing that proceeded was only barely a landing due to wings spread in panic. He touched down with a thud. <em>Ow. Strong legs, I keep forgetting. In hindsight, it makes sense. Wait… If I can’t take off but I can glide, maybe jumping is the solution? This changes everything! Shame bodies don’t come with instruction manuals. Would have been nice to know that I could climb to the top of a particularly large rock and just jump to get around. Its terrifying how much muscle strength I have. What if I jump ove-</em></span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And thus, he was lost in his musings. The shifting of rocks was what brought him back to the present. Paranoid as he was, he turned to check what made the sound. <strong>Garchomp</strong>.</span>
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  <span>He panicked. Having just thought of a way out he attempted a second jump, only to fail. The garchomp approached with speeds he had only seen himself pull off, yet it did so from a <em>deadstop</em>. The pain came a second later, a large gash on his right wing. Feathers fell and blood spilled. He attempted to increase the speed of his mind through agility, but the pain stopped him. His failure was further capitalized upon. Days ago, he had punted a skitty. Now, he knew what it was like to soar as he was picked up and tossed at the rock wall. Out of breath, he could do nothing but watch the garchomp approach. When it finally arrived, a brawl ensued. Scales clinked against the ground and feathers fluttered in the wind. Gashes opened by claw and talon. Blood baked in the heat on stone. The garchomp raised its arm, reading to devastate his flesh a second time, yet he lashed out. </span>
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  <span>Brick break was a move he had never used, but he found himself doing so now. His talon, curled into a fist, impacted the face of the garchomp with a harrowing thwack. With the dragon rearing back, Lewis was able to stand up for the first time the entire fight. While his legs were shaky and his breath was ragged, he still pushed on. His mind instantly went back to the river as he attempted to seize the dragon by the head. It turns out that gripping a two-hundred-pound lizard is sometimes a bad idea. Its fins came up and braced against his leg. It proceeded to slam him sideways, head still in talons, straight onto a boulder. He felt something crack. </span>
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    <span>Oh god that’s a rib. </span>
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  <span>Wheezing, he lashed out. It was only luck that made his talons catch on an eye. Rolling onto its feet, the dragon screeched. Lewis felt something in the air before the dragon raised its leg and slammed it down, causing a wave of energy to pulse out. <em>Bulldoze</em>. He braced himself as it washed over him… and nothing happened. <em>Not the time to question it!</em> </span>
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  <span>The dragon was blinded and did not see the impact of its move. It also didn’t see the second brick break coming for its bloodied face. A tooth fell out, and it did not stand back up. Unconscious. <em>Oh god this hurts… </em></span>
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  <span>He was faced with a choice. He was in no state to get out of the ravine, he was too injured. He could either kill the dragon or possibly die when it woke up. Then he remembered something about gabites. Their scales were medical miracles. What if he ate some from a garchomp? Finding one that wasn’t so sharp that it would tear his throat, he swallowed it. A couple minutes later his bleeding stopped. The pain was gone too. His wounds were still there, the blood had just congealed very quickly. <em>If only I could carry some of these</em>. </span>
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  <span>It wouldn’t be good for him, but he could leave without more death. <em>I already killed what was probably its kid, it doesn’t need to die.</em> </span>
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  <span>And like that he found himself atop the ridge that had troubled him so much. He eyed the unconscious form of the garchomp below, partially out of worry that it would die anyway and he had hurt himself more for no reason and partially out of nervousness that it could wake at any moment. Still, the issue had been dealt with, and his original goal was yet to be complete. With a busted wing and slight bleeding from his now reopened wounds, he shambled onwards, intent on seeing the world. </span>
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  <span>And the world revealed itself. A brilliant sunset, casting colors across the sky as if an artist had sought to orchestrate a masterpiece. Even in pain he was able to appreciate it. With the sound of wind and the crackle of his feathers he gazed upon the land. He could recognize nothing. He thought he saw Mt. Bristle but he wasn’t sure at all. He was well and truly lost. He so very much wanted to stay in the little alcove that the garchomp lived in, but he was opposed to killing what could one day gain sapience. Lacking another choice, he wandered on, no destination in sight. He briefly felt something odd but shrugged it off. <em>Everything that could go wrong so far already has, what else could possibly happen?</em></span>
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  <span>If only he knew.</span>
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  <span>Something watched. Power was something to be desired. Something wanted <strong>It</strong>, and just needed a way to get in. Time was a wonderful thing. <strong>It</strong> had called and twice it was heard. Once for those intended and once not. Time was such a wonderful, beautiful, sought after thing. </span>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Odyssey of many</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Whats this? Another chapter?<br/>Yes! <br/>And as much as I dont want to sound full of myself, I feel like this is so much better than my previous chapters....</p>
<p>might just rewrite those someday... </p>
<p>Anyway, the semester is nearly at an end and hopefully things will improve after that.<br/>Cheers!<br/>Also, im still looking for beta readers for any willing!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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    <span>Chapter 10: Odyssey of many.</span>
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  <span><br/> <br/> It did not take long for Amaya to realize that witness protection <em>sucks</em>. There was little you could do without unwanted spectators, and it felt as if someone was always breathing down her neck. Amaya was tired of it after a single day. Part of her deal with the guildmaster was that she would get pardoned for what she had done in the past and for whatever dirt was eventually released or uncovered involving her. Unfortunately, some damage had already been done. There had been multiple attempts to release information about her past deeds, but all had been quickly stopped, much to her relief. She still sometimes received dirty looks in some areas of town from passerby’s, but the guildmaster had taken the whole thing very seriously and had spared little effort in other manners. </span>
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  <span>The guildmaster wasn’t the law, despite how much power the guild held. There was separate law enforcement, and the only reason that Mr. Corviknight hadn’t been pushed out earlier was that any attempt to make an assault on a compound that large would have breached multiple agreements between the guild and the law. According to the guildmaster, such a massive bounty combined with the testimony of Amaya herself gave the guild enough probable cause to stage an assault. Too bad they hadn’t secured Lew. </span>
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  <span>Every day she was followed by two guards no matter where she went. There were few places she could go and truly get away from them, and even at those places they would insist on following and be difficult. The guards in question sometimes changed, but it was always two of them. They also stayed outside her home and patrolled when she wasn’t out in town, much to her annoyance. Any loud speaking would result in them hearing; even in her own home her privacy was limited.</span>
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  <span>“How long do you think you’ll have to put up with this?” Vaporeon said. They were in Amaya’s upstairs living room – yes, she had two, her house was large after all – and were drinking cheap tea. The current predicament made earning poke hard. She was thankful Curie was paying her for training, as taking out of town jobs came with unknown risk. The irony that her life was in more consistent danger than it had ever been outside of town in mystery dungeons did not escape her. Still, going into dungeons or even simply leaving town when someone may want your head on a platter was not a good idea. Ferals were much less dangerous than rational minds which could plot and scheme.</span>
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  <span>“I have no clue.” She replied, and she really didn’t. Ironically, despite how much experience as she had with breaking the law, she had little experience of dealing with criminals. Most criminals did not deal with each other; Doing so only caused problems: more witnesses, more people to split the money between, etc. Higher crime – as in of the organized sort – was the exception, such as trade or production of illicit goods, or organized robbery, but Amaya had avoided going too deep into the rabbit hole and becoming a part of such operations. She had been asked, sure, but she had only worked with others on few occasions. Criminals may have tended to hang out in the same places and work for the same people but that was completely different and also something that Amaya had mostly avoided. This time things were unique. She wasn’t the aggressor, doing a job. She had a target painted on her and she had never dealt with that before, not in the sense that those targeting her knew who she was. Running from guards in the dark was different. <em>Good criminals don’t get caught; else their careers are ruined. Jailed once and everyone knows who you are. Bad criminals don’t exist for long.</em></span>
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  <span>She had thought about all of this before. More than once, too. Three days had passed since the day of the attack, with four attempts at spreading information about her crimes and a single aggressive passerby trying to get to her for reasons she could only guess were malicious; they hadn’t reached her due to the guards. No coordinated attacks, no bribing of guards, nothing of that sort had happened like she expected. It worried her more that so little had happened – all of which could be explained as pokémon who likely were not Mr. Corviknight being angry at her for ruining their careers and accordingly acting out – in three days. Boredom made such thoughts more prevalent. With nothing to think about, the mind drifted to what was most pressing; anything that caused stress and put your life at danger.</span>
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  <span>She grimaced at the tea she was drinking. It wasn’t very good, but she had little else at the moment. It was probably local; the tea grown on the continent wasn’t good at all. The imported stuff was better.</span>
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  <span>The knock of the door downstairs had her sighing in relief. <em>I know I have really reached my lowest when a knock at my door is something I look forward to.</em></span>
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  <span>She opened the door to find the third bird she had dealt with in recent days, the one on Vaporeons team. She didn’t particularly like his constant haughty demeaner, but she had dealt with it on the couple occasions she had worked with them. </span>
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  <span>“Yes?” she asked.</span>
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  <span>“Is Vic- I mean is Vaporeon here?” He spoke.</span>
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  <span>While she didn’t want to, Amaya invited him inside anyway. It would be rude not to and alienating a team member of what she would hesitantly call an actual friend wasn’t something she wanted to do. “Yes, she is.” The blaziken brazenly made himself at home on her couch, much to her annoyance. Amaya took a moment to compose herself. She was on a thin trigger right now, the stress and recent events having her on edge. It took effort not to snap at the impudent bird.</span>
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  <span>“So, are you going to tell me why you’re lounging on my couch? You asked about Vaporeon and then you don’t even seek her out; why?” Amaya admonished him. He looked offended at first, before realizing that he was indeed sprawled out on her couch. He got up, sheepishly picking up a stray feather that had fallen off of him and onto her couch and waited for her to guide him with a false air of haughtiness and self-importance. </span>
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  <span>Vaporeon only glanced at the blaziken when they finally arrived. “Did Kabutops want something and send you?” she asked. Blaziken frowned more than Amaya thought possible with a beak. More than he frowned by default; the bird had resting bitch face.</span>
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  <span>“Am I not allowed to want to hang out with my frie-team mate?” Vaporeon snickered at his slip up while Blaziken ‘hmphed’ in response. It was incredibly awkward for Amaya to watch then act so childish when she very well could die today, tomorrow, or in a week. It angered her and relieved her at the same time. It felt safe, like everything was normal. It also felt disrespectful. She chose not to comment – It would only ruin the mood – despite how awkward it was to Amaya. Awkward but light was preferable to dreary and stressed. <em>I need to get better at talking to people in a way that isn’t business or lying.</em></span>
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  <span>And so, they had shitty tea and relaxed. Blaziken eventually opened up more, being less stuck up and hesitantly friendly – or at least trying to be and somewhat succeeding. Different topics were broached and even jokes were eventually made. Already having refilled their cups more than once, Vaporeon asked a question Amaya had not expected.</span>
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  <span>“Weavile, I’ve been thinking about things and I wanted to know, what would you think about being on our team?” She queried. Blaziken looked up at this, seemed to think a moment, and then made no comment. Amaya didn’t know it but Blazikens lack of comment had surprised Vaopreon. She had expected outcry from him. </span>
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  <span>“That’s… a big choice. Also, don’t you have three members already? That’s the optimal amount isn’t it?” Rescue and exploration teams seldom had more than three members unless they had become more established. There were teams with many members, but those nearly all those teams had an extensive track record of success – or had one in the past – and were high enough rank to acquire jobs with large payouts that were harder to do or required more members to do effectively. </span>
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  <span>“Well, I still have to ask Kabutops, but I think he would be fine with it. We need more type-variety too, two of us are water types.” Vaporeon answered. Blaziken nodded in agreement.</span>
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  <span>Amaya thought about Curie then. She had showed promise, seeing as her attacks were very strong for her age. She was inexperienced, yes, but no professional starts perfect. Like a statue ready to be chiseled, in the end they can all become good with time and care, but some statues just had better stone. Curie was good stone. <em>What an odd metaphor. I’m really out of it today.</em></span>
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  <span>The thought of leaving the poor cat alone when she seemed so socially awkward just felt wrong to her as well. Her status meant nothing to her, she was not one to care about that. Still, she could tell Curie had few – If any – friends. Amaya was cruel at times, but she really didn’t feel like reinforcing whatever social issues Curie had by abandoning her. <em>Am I really becoming soft? Is that…. Even a bad thing? </em></span>
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  <span>“I don’t see why not, but you have to let Curie join too.” Amaya countered. <em>I’ve got myself into this situation by working with others, might as well go all the way.</em> Blaziken looked confused and a bit unsettled at the casual use of someone’s name but a little whispering from Vaporeon cleared matters up. He already knew about the whole incident, as did Kabutops, and now he knew that of the three in the room, two already knew the name. </span>
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  <span>While Blaziken seemed to hesitate to answer, Vaporeon did not. “Okay.” She immediately and somewhat impulsively answered. Her decisiveness was off putting to Amaya. Blaziken too that moment to interrupt.<br/> “And what about what Kabutops thinks, hmmmm?” He supplied, crossing his arms. </span>
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  <span>Vaporeon initially sighed in response, before truly answering. “We both know you would make a fuss if he was the one making this suggestion and I wasn’t here. You would make a fuss either way! Do you…” She continued.</span>
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  <span>Amaya simply tuned them out. <em>Today is going to be a long day.</em> </span>
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  <span><br/> ______________________________________________________________________________<br/> <br/> “Absolutely not!” Was the first response that graced Victoria’s ears upon asking Seclypse if Weavile and Curie could join their team. She knew he was unlikely to budge on something such as this once he made his answer, hence why she didn’t even bother arguing with him. Fugo would say something later, and he would more than likely be much more vocal in his opinion. Anything else and she would debate, but Seclypse was the “official unofficial” leader of the team. She also kind of slept under a roof owned by him. <br/> <br/> Rather than listen to them when the arguing eventually happened, Victoria decided to relax. The only issue was she couldn’t decide where to do so. At first, she wanted to go to Spindas, but upon arrival she found it to be inordinately crowded as compared to normal. Sharpedo bluff was a bust, being inhabited by a group of unruly teenagers. A walk on the beach would have been nice, if she wouldn’t be constantly reminded that she lived on the beach and her two teammates were likely having an obnoxious verbal spar at this very moment. <br/> </span>
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  <span>Lacking anything better to do with her time, she went window shopping. There was a portion of Treasure town that was dedicated to all things commercial, with roads lined with shops and even a square that on most days was absolutely filled with various pop-up shop stalls; sometimes made of wood and sometimes tent like. Awnings made of imported fabrics greeted her eyes and bags of spice created smells that wafted into her nose before the sources were even in view. Just about anything could be found here if one looked for long enough, new the right pokémon, or just visited on the right date. She happened across many odd things; trinkets that the sellers claimed would make you stronger, jewelry all the way from the sand continent, fabrics. The oddest of all had to have been a stand that was selling objects without any explanation as to what they were, without price tags too. A request for further explanation led to the stand owner commenting that “if she didn’t know what they were, she had no right buying them to begin with”. Still, she decided to at least look at the unusual objects. She had no clue why someone would buy such elaborately decorated cymbals, a blue icy vase, or a small metal box with what looked like part of a time gear on it. That last one gave her the chills when she looked at it for some reason. </span>
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  <span>Having spent hours browsing, she was confident that her two partners would no longer be arguing. Grouchy, maybe, but not arguing. She returned home as the sun set, light casting beautiful shadows and making the land glow orange to the accompaniment of the distant sounds of the waves joined by the salty breeze. <em>It’s always the small things that remind me that even when things are bad, there is always something good to be found. </em><br/> <br/> Her musings were cut short by a visitor. The swellow that landed said no words, simply passing her a letter. Opening the wax seal revealed a simple message. <br/> </span>
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  <span>“Greetings,<br/> Recent happenings have necessitated my own personal intervention into matters, and I’ve been dealing with the repercussions of my actions in relation to policy and Treasure Towns’ official law enforcement. In short, I can’t continue to deal with the matters at hand on my own. If you lack understanding about what I am referring to, then maybe the gravity of the situation has flown over your head. Recall your recent encounter with the bird, and what it said it was. The stories you heard as a child are real; I don’t care if you doubt them. Your team - as well as others that I have chosen – will pursue the human. If the claim of humanity is false, then the matter is resolved. But even as I am consigned to sit idle because of politics, I will not let others do so when they can fix the problem in my stead and maybe prevent a catastrophe. Your team is to go to the main hall at noon three days from now for more in-depth orders. Depending on how long this lasts and the difficulties that may show up, I am willing to compensate you greatly, even personally if I need to. Prepare accordingly, though additional assets will be provided.<br/> -Your guildmaster,<br/> Meowstic”<br/> <br/> Victoria simply watched the sunset as she thought about how things would change. For better or for worse.<br/> <br/> ______________________________________________________________________________</span>
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  <span>He had no specific destination in mind. He hardly remembered the map that he had seen so many times in his youth on the little screen of his DS. All he knew was that he had to get away, and away he went, further and further east. Lewis had been moving consistently for days, staying in the mountains and hills whenever possible. The feral pokémon he encountered were usually not dangerous, and when they were, he ran. Twice he found dungeons, though he avoided both. It would not be good to waste so much time when he was possibly being pursued. Getting injured would result in worse when in such a rocky environment with little growth, and dungeons made it so much easier to get hurt. There were few berries to be found and even less of those helped with healing as much as orans or sitrus berries, which were nowhere to be found. <em>Just keep moving. <br/> <br/> </em>The day felt incredibly long, yet everything was a blur to him. Distant rocks caused the air to shimmer from the heat imbued upon them by the ever-scorching sun. If Lewis had any doubts about what season it was previously, he had none now. The summer heat was only bearable because of the winds and colder air up high. There was nothing to look forward to.</span>
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  <span>Except… the sunset. The sunset, of all things, proved to be one of the only things that Lewis could find appreciation in and one of the things that prevented him from giving up. Spend enough time on mountains and the view becomes normalized, but each sunset was different. Clouds in different places, a different position causing other landmarks to be cast in light, everything previously mundane becoming a beacon of pure light. Water became a mirror for the suns grace, the rocks shone with twinkles from microscopic crystals on their surfaces, and every shadow briefly looked as if it was its own thing; paired with the real world yet separate.<br/> <br/> But still, there was the loneliness. He wasn’t the most social person in both of his lives, but he still liked having others to talk to at times. Now he just had the wind and whatever pokémon decided it didn’t like the look of his face and would rather rip it off while screeching the whole time. Even worse was that even with his loneliness, he dreaded happening across civilization in the event that him being wanted had become public knowledge, with posters of him in towns. He would go into a town if he found it, he knew he would despite his misgivings, yet the anxiousness that caused was getting to him. It made it harder to go to sleep at night and harder to think about anything other than the problems he faced. All forms of distraction from his anxiety failed as well. In a life past he would exercise, do work, or more: There was no work to do, exercise wasn’t tiring him out easily enough to take his attention off his issues, and there was nothing more to do.</span>
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    <span>I just want to go home.</span>
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  <span><br/> <br/> ______________________________________________________________________________<br/> <br/> Benji had finally made it. At first, he wasn’t sure where he was going, then he was, then he wasn’t, and so on. <em>Towns are confusing!</em> <br/>            He had been given a letter three days ago telling him that he would be going on a mission, and now he had to meet up in the guilds main hall before being told all the details. Finding the guild hall had been hard, but Benji had made it. The only issue was that he couldn’t find the pokémon he was supposed to meet up with. The room was nearly empty, with little activity to be seen.<br/> <br/> Many minutes passed before a sleepy meowstic walked into the room. “Why are you here so early? Can’t you tell what time it is? Ugh. Listen, I’m not even ready for the meeting and it’s not time for it, I’m just here for some chesto berries…just…Go home or something.” She said. Benji had no clue why she wasn’t ready for the meeting, nor who she was. The letter he had gotten wasn’t signed and just simply had a stamp for the Wiggly-Tuff guild Not knowing how to respond, he went with his go to greeting. “Hi.”<br/> <br/> The meowstic ignored him and continued walking through the room, mumbling the entire time. So Benji just waited, then waited some more. He soon started pacing. At one point he found himself in another room and had no clue how he had arrived there but there was food so why complain? <em>Am I forgetting something? Oh! The meeting!</em><br/> <br/> The main hall of the guild was <em>hard</em> to find! When Benji finally found it again, it was much more crowded than before. <em>How long had it been since I left? It couldn’t have been long, right? I just went to eat some!<br/> <br/> </em>He – in time – found the Pokémon he was supposed to find and even recognized some faces among the crowd: the weavile and the luxio from when he took the test to join the guild. He was shown to his team for the job and then they were led together into another room. There, the briefing started. Benji zoned out in mere moments. He sporadically heard words such as “east” and some other such things, and that was it. He remembered the important stuff he had actually heard. Go east, find some bird, take him back. <em>Easy enough</em>.<br/> <br/> They were given bags filled with various items, food and medicine being the most abundant. The entire time the meowstic that had briefed them kept looking at him. <em>She must think I look promising!</em><br/> <br/> He, along with the weavile, luxio, a vaporeon, a blaziken, and a kabutops left the town later that day, heading towards the mountains. <br/> “Yah know that maybe when we all cross past the hot springs we can make ourselves a stop and rest!” the kabutops said. <em>Hot springs sound nice…</em><br/> <br/> The amount of time spent thinking about hot springs while walking numbered in the hours and was only ended by the need to set up camp for the night.<br/> </span>
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  <span>______________________________________________________________________________<br/> <br/> North it said. North. North. North. Always north. Mr. Corviknight followed its words like law. If it said north, he would go north. Simple as is. So north he went. There was little room for doubt when the demands were issued from something so powerful. For days he traveled, stopping few times for rest. Many likely thought he would be trying to recuperate from his losses, but no, they would be wrong. That was for another day. </span>
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  <span>Finally, on the fourth day, he found it. In a small mountain range sat a place that was dead. Abandoned. Nothing went near it, contrary to what happens normally when places were abandoned. There were no ferals here. The unassuming cave was too empty to be normal. That didn’t stop him from entering, nor did it stop him from heading deeper. Eventually he came across a door that was warped and dented, but open. </span>
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  <span>It was still on its hinges, but then again, its hinges looked strong enough to stop the gods. Going through it revealed ash and dust, rot and death, utter destruction. More than one skeleton sat in the “lobby”, though most were unrecognizable in terms of species, having been greatly damaged, and not all in the same manner either. The deeper he went, the less intact the place seemed. Eventually he came across a crossroads that led in three directions. One was extremely charred, the other emanated the feeling of pain, and the last had huge gashes in many areas of the tunnel. He was curious, but <strong>It</strong> told him that he had went too far. He went back, coming across an office area. </span>
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  <span>In one of the offices was a safe. He <em>knew</em> what was inside. He began his search for the combination. Poor security made finding it easy; it was scratched into the bottom of a drawer of the desk. He felt the wooden box in his bag splinter as he found the code, <strong>It</strong> eager to get out. He slowly opened the safe, revealing a small lockbox inside. Out of his bag flew the small object that started this entire trip. It collided with the box and the air was filled with the sound of screeching steel as the thin metal bent and slowly gave way, all the while the feeling of power in the air increased. Then he heard a snap.<br/> <br/> Everything went <strong>wrong</strong>. He felt older in a moment but younger in the next. The objects around him reversed, the dust visibly disappearing before reappearing. He heard someone speaking at varying speeds. He saw himself enter the room to look for the code. He saw the previous inhabitants of the facility. Neither reacted well to each other, but fighting was hard when one moment you were there and the next you were there and the next you were old and t</span>
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  <span>t</span>
  <span≯</span>
  
  <span>̷</span>
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  <span>h</span>
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  <span>̴</span>
  <span>w</span>
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  <span>̵̧̒</span>
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  <span>h</span>
  <span>̵̈̎̈́͗</span>
  <span>̃</span>
  <span>̯̥͙̥̻</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span>̶̹͗̒</span>
  
  <span>̷̱̥̠̈͜</span>
  <span>n</span>
  <span>̴</span>
  <span>̀</span>
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  <span>e</span>
  <span>̵̳̪̘͈̖̄͒͌̊̈́</span>
  <span>x</span>
  <span>̷̧̮͕̟͒͗͆̒</span>
  <span>t</span>
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  <span≯̲̒̋̆̕</span>
  <span>y</span>
  <span>̴̠̅</span>
  <span>o</span>
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  <span>̃</span>
  <span>̗̩̱̙̍͘</span>
  <span>u</span>
  <span>̵̛͎͚̐̐̐̈</span>
  
  <span>̶̖͎̠̑̽͊</span>
  <span>w</span>
  <span>̴̛̭̩̭̮͗̾͒̚</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span>̴̪̘̼̏̽̂͝</span>
  <span>r</span>
  <span>̷</span>
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  <span>͈̗͇̮̈́̏</span>
  <span>e</span>
  <span>̶̿̈̈̋</span>
  <span>̃</span>
  <span>̧̤̝̥̺</span>
  <span>n</span>
  <span>̵</span>
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  <span>̢̦̏ͅ</span>
  <span>t</span>
  <span>̴</span>
  <span>̃</span>
  <span>̨̝͉͖̫̂̄͘</span>
  
  <span>̵̨̡̠̞̼̄̽</span>
  <strong>
    <span>a</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̷̧̠̝̪̺̂̈͗̐̂̅͆̋̽̓̈́̅͗̎͐̍</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>n</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̷̽̂̏̐͑͋͝</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̉</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̡͓̅̑̊̕</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>d</span>
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    <span≯̋</span>
  </strong>
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    <span>̀</span>
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    <span>̾̈́͗͆͌̇͋̋̂</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̀</span>
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    <span>̜̜̌̐͛͋͠</span>
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    <span>̣</span>
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    <span>̜̤̬</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̶</span>
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    <span>̃</span>
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    <span>̆̔͑</span>
  </strong>
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    <span>́</span>
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    <span>͍͉̾̋</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>e</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̵̓̒͝</span>
  </strong>
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    <span>̃̀</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̳̮͎͓̝͈̻̈́͛͝͠</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>v</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̴̛̆̓̎̐͛͝</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>́</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̂̔̆̒͊̆</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̣</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̡̡̢̩̤̺̖̻̝̭̱͍̙̱̘̮͜</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>e</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̵̨̧̨̨̟̩̱̞̲̟̤̪̠̬͕͉̈̆͗̚</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̣</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>͎̱̠</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>r</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̵̛̾̚͘</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̃</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̘̱̭̘͚̮</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̣̣</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̤̘</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>y</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span≯̨̧̡͓̹̪͉͈͎̒̓̑</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>t</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span≯̧̧̳̳̭͖̹̮̩̞͔͍͈̦͎̞̫͂̋͌̆̓̈́͘͜͝͠͝</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>h</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̴</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̀</span>
  </strong>
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    <span>̤̯͕̱̭̭͓̘̤̯͇̺̌̍̑̇̿͘̕͠͠͠</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>i</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̷̾͑͌̓</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̃</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̓̾</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̃</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̢͓̩͍̬͔̪͆͑͋͆͋̈̊̂̇̋͘͝ͅ</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>n</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̵̈́͑</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̉</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̦͚͒̓</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>g</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̶̧̭͈̘͚̺̪͈̤͌̌͆̚</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̴̳͈̞̞̪͐̾̈̆͌͑̽̐͊͆͌̋̓̏̂͝</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>w</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span≯̍̑̎̊̏̚</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̃̀</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̓</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̀</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̹̰̮̥̜̦̘͉ͅ</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̣</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̡̨̝̤̹̦̪̮͉</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>a</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̵̌͗̕</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̀</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>͈͔̞̬͙̺͛̄̌̈͘̕͝</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>s</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̵̛͗͝</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̃</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>͊̋͋͊̾̈́͗̈̏̔̒̂͝</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̉</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>͖̞̫̰̘̼͖</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̴̛</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̃</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̨͖̞͈̳͚̼̩̰̝̤̯͎͒</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>w</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span≯̧̧̨̛̠̦̫̭͖͔͔̟̰̘̌̓̑̏͗̒͑̏͑̋͒̈́͋̚͜͝͝</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>r</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̷̾̓͛̾̓͐̆̋͑͌̚͝</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̀</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>͒̅̓</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̃</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̢̘̠̙̺</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>o</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span≯̨̡̤̺͇̤̳͇͔̫̙̱͙̻̜̓̄̐̑̏̓̕͠</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>n</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span≯̓̌̈́̓</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>́</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̑̌̂̓̈́͋̓̓̏̽</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̉</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̥̺͈̩̯̰̫͎̝͓͐͑̌</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>g</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span≯̊̅͊</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̀</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̐̍͛̏͆̚͝</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>́</span>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <span>̨̢̳̬̗̦̂ͅ</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <span>______________________________________________________________________________<br/> <br/> Outside of Treasure town, huddled up to some boulders, sat an unfinished and ramshackle building. To all eyes it looked like something made out of desperation; something never meant to be permanent. The oddness of the site was made greater by the occasional orange or black feather covered in mud or stuck in the ground, as well as the single word scratched into one of the rocks. <br/> <br/> Yet, relation and meaning made this site so much greater at that very moment, what with who had made it, when the veil between things stirred and something else noticed. With meaning came leeway and from this innocuous home slowly sprung a tower. The earth rumbled yet did not move and the brickwork appeared from in between everything and all. Nobody noticed its rise. It was not finished either, as it needed more meaning. The area around it gave itself away to something other; time becoming something fluid and unstable in the area. Grass grew and died at a pace visible to the eye and just as fast stopped completely in one phase of growth. Others visibly grew younger. What few trees that were in range of this anomaly were indescribable. Some rapidly changed from sprout to fully grown and back again. Some grew massive. Others died and from the remains came new life, slightly different than the previous, the process of natural selection going at a speed unnatural. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/> It never stopped. It never would. There was no one to stop it. The two able to do so either lacked the strength needed or had no knowledge of the “problem” – if it could be called such a thing – at hand. So, it went undisturbed, waiting for another push towards completion. The faint bonging of a bell and the ticking of a clock could be heard if one were to get close enough. No ears were there to hear it, not nearby anyways. Three heard. Two ignored it and one prayed that he wasn’t hearing things before going to sleep and forgetting completely about it. <br/> <br/> Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. <strong>Tick. Tock. </strong></span>
</p>
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